Ready For The Letdown
by Shade Asylum
Summary: Santana is the new girl with more in her life than she'd like to talk about and Rachel wants nothing more than to befriend her. What will come of this odd and unlikely union. Past and present, maybe some future. Triggery. Starts off T, will reach M.
1. She's always getting into trouble

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters. The M rating's just to be safe. Maybe some triggers but I don't want to give anything away. Angst. I haven't done much research yet so all mistakes are my own.**

Temple had just gotten out, and of course, Noah and I were the only children in our neighborhood that hadn't already been out to play. Dad and Daddy, reluctantly, said I could go to the park with Noah Puckerman as long as he walked me home before the streetlights came on. I knew it was only a matter of time before Noah was called away from me for his real friends, but I enjoyed the short walk across the street and even the few moments he took to push me on the swings. Soon enough, though, he left me to play football with his usual group and I wouldn't see much of him until it was time to go. I could have gone to sit with the other girls, watching the boys as they always did, but I'd much rather play than sit around and act excited whenever one of them did something exciting.

As usual, I did sit on the swings, surging back and forth with each kick of my legs until Noah was done. He was still passing the ball between Finn Hudson and David Karofsky when he called, "Rach, you ready to go?"

"Yes Noah," I smiled, sliding off the swing and jogging over to him as I brushed my skirt down.

"You're still hanging with that fag-hag in training?" Azimio asked.

"Come on man, lay off," Noah mumbled.

"I'd prefer you not use such language while referring to either me or my fathers," I scowled at the boy.

"Well, I'd prefer you and your fathers stop gaying up our town," the taller boy sneered.

"We have just as much right to live has you and your father."

"You have some right to my fist too, but you aren't going around taking advantage of that, are you?" He challenged.

I unconsciously took a step back, "You wouldn't dare hit me, Azimio."

Noah turned toward his friend as if he had something to say but didn't, even Finn looked on to see if he'd actually do it. David stood behind his friend nervously and Michael had long since left.

"Watch me," he moved forward, past Noah and I didn't see nearly as much as I felt the impact of his hit as another force hit me. There was also a slight crunch and when I opened my eyes I saw why. A tan-skinned girl with curly hair sat on top of me, fuming as she clutched her now bleeding nose.

"Back the fuck off," she mumbled past her hand and the blood.

"Make me," Azimio growled.

"Fine," the girl was off of me in a second and Noah had enough sense to grab her shoulders.

"Get your friend, Karofsky," he urged trying to hold back the wild girl.

"Forget you and your pet dykes, Puckerman!" Azimio shouted when Dave finally began tugging his friend away.

"Fuck you," the girl was yelling, still putting up quite a fight as Noah struggled to find hold past her flailing arms.

"Calm the hell down," Noah urged.

"Assholes," the girl muttered, her actions calmed but her breathing still coming in huffs.

I hadn't realized I'd just been sitting and watching until Noah turned to me, "Are you okay? I'm sorry Rach, I should have-"

"It's fine, Noah," It wasn't but I'd gotten used to his friends, this was just farther than Azimio usually went. I looked to the girl in his arms, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she groaned, shrugging off Noah's grasp as he loosened it. The blood had started spilling down her chin.

"No you aren't," I pointed out, moving to take her hand. She scrutinized me under a gaze too intense for any seven year old but I ignored the slight shiver it caused, "Come with me. My daddy can clean you up."

"I need to go," she mumbled.

"The quicker you get it over with the quicker she'll let you leave," Puck mumbled, guilt still filling his voice.

"I just live across the street," I assured.

She just nodded silently and let me tug her along.

Noah left with a hug and a silent goodbye before I pulled the girl into the house.

"Rachel is that y-" Daddy called as he walked into the living room from the kitchen, drying his hands with a washrag. He rushed forward and kneeled before us, "Is your friend alright, sweetie?"

"She got hurt," I supplied, not dipping into further details.

"What's your name honey?" He asked her, reaching out with the washrag.

She looked at him skeptically before dropping my hand to take the rag, "Santana."

"Santana, what happened?"

"I got hurt."

"How did you get hurt?" He wondered, looking between the two of us.

"Azimio was bothering me and Santana protected me," I finally clarified.

"Azimio Adams?" His eyes widened in shock, before anger filled his voice, "And Noah didn't do anything?"

"He tried," I mumbled, not wanting to get the boy in trouble, "He got David to hold Azimio."

He nodded, deciding not to push it anymore before looking to Santana, "Well, thank you for protecting my daughter, Santana."

"Was nothing," she mumbled into the rag.

"I'd greatly appreciate if you'd let me check your nose," he asked, but she didn't seem too pleased with that option, "To make sure it's not broken."

"Daddy's really gentle," I offered, but her eyes widened slightly at that and she shook her head.

"I promise, it's just a quick check, and you can go up to Rachel's room and play," he offered.

She still didn't seem convinced but as she looked to me she finally relaxed enough to lower the towel.

He was quick and careful as he'd promised before smiling encouragingly at the uncertain girl before looking to me, "Rachel take her up to your room and I'll get some ice. Santana, make sure you keep holding your nose," he showed her how and allowed her to wipe the rest of the blood away before heading back into the kitchen.

I lead the girl up to my room and let her sit on my bed, "Thank you for that."

"It was nothing, your stupid friend should have done it anyway," she grumbled.

"Noah wouldn't have let Azimio hit me," I defended, but I really couldn't have been sure.

She scoffed silently.

Daddy came up with the icepack, helping the girl maneuver it onto her face with the rag before asking, "Santana, should you be calling someone? It's kind of late."

"My aunt," she mumbled, looking down.

"Do you want to call her?"

She shook her head but stood up, "I have to go."

"Do you want me to drive you?"

Another shake, "I can walk."

"Really, it's no trouble."

"I want to walk," she clarified.

"It's sort of dark outside," he sounded concerned.

"I'll be fine," she assured.

We walked her to the door, and daddy tried, unsuccessfully, once more to convince her to let him drive her.

"Thank you," she offered without looking to either of us.

"It's really no problem, I hope you can come back under better circumstances," he offered to the little girl.

"Uh," she mumbled before looking down the street.

"Bye, Santana," I waved slightly.

Daddy and I sat on the patio, watching her walk away, the icepack still clutched to her face until Dad returned. Apparently he'd had to run to the grocery store. We sat down to dinner together, and Dad explained as much of the situation as he could to Daddy. Daddy seemed outraged at the thought of Azimio picking on me. They discussed it further for a moment before Daddy brought the conversation back to the girl who'd come to my aid. The two older men finally looked to me over my pasta.

"So this girl helped you out, sweetie?" Dad asked me.

"Yes, but Azimio hurt her," I nodded.

"It's good that you and Noah brought her here, maybe next time you can invite her to stay for dinner as thanks," he offered.

"Yeah," I smiled.

"I still wish we could have given her a ride," Daddy sighed.

"Why didn't you?" Dad wondered.

Daddy shook his head, "She was insistent on walking."

"Hmm," Dad mumbled.

They fell into more familiar topics, temple, work, their days, as we ate. I bathed and we sat down to watch a movie, although both men were insistent that I branch out from my usual favorite of Funny Girl. Finally, I was in bed and thought of the girl who'd stepped in the line of fire for me. It was a bit dramatic a pattern of thought for a seven year old, but it brought a smile to my face as I fell asleep.

}{

I woke up as I would any Sunday, enjoying the bustling of my fathers as Dad helped Daddy to find his tie. Both my father's traditions had grown very familiar to me, but I had to say I enjoyed Daddy's scatter-brained tendencies more often. He followed Dad around, whining about his favorite black and blue tie although the black one matched just as well with his suit. I already had my own yellow dress and white Mary Janes on but I still enjoyed watching. Finally Daddy came out into the living room, a coffee mug and his car keys in hand as well as a juice box for me. We left with a kiss from Dad.

Daddy's church was a lot different from Dad's temple but I still enjoyed them both. Daddy was talking to one of his friends and urged me to go play with the other children before the service began. I made a bee-line for two familiar faces, Kurt Hummel and Mercedes Jones. Mercedes was animatedly telling Kurt about her performance today, and sometimes I envied her spot in the churches choir, but with all my other classes I didn't have time for it. Kurt, aside from his usual anxiousness at the church, looked pleased for her.

"I can't wait for you two to see, it's my first solo," the darker girl beamed proudly.

"We must celebrate," Kurt clapped, "What are you guys doing after?"

"Probably going to the park," I supplied.

"Yeah," Mercedes agreed.

"Perfect, I have the makings of finger sandwiches and tea at home," he cheered, although he blushed at some disapproving glances.

"I thought you weren't supposed to use the stove anymore after the crepes," Mercedes wondered.

"I'll have my mom boil it," Kurt offered.

"Alright," I smiled, just as everyone began making their way into the church. We left with promises to meet afterwards and I found Daddy easily, leaning into his side as we made our way to our seats.

Mercedes performance of I look to you, along with the rest of the choir eventually, was amazing. I had to stand up to make sure I could see over the hat of the woman in front of me but it was worth it. The rest of the service was as it usually was. We stood up and sang along to the familiar words and I mostly watched Daddy as he listened to the preacher and the testimonials of the other patrons. Finally, we were out and I saw a familiar face, rather, familiar features behind a bruised and slightly swollen nose.

"Santana," I called and waved as I moved towards the girl.

She noticed me but looked down to her shoes. She wasn't clad in the church-wear I'd grown accustomed to; pretty dresses and dapper suits, instead she wore jeans and a t-shirt.

"Santana," I repeated as I stopped in front of her, finally noticing the hand of the older woman next to her resting on her shoulder. I gave my biggest and brightest smile, "Hello ma'am."

"Wha- Oh, um, hello?" She said curiously before looking to Santana.

"My name is Rachel Berry, I'm a friend of Santana's," I held out my hand.

She shook it curiously as Daddy walked up, "I'm sorry, my daughter got a bit ahead of herself."

"Your daughter?" She wondered, looking down to, "Oh, of course, it's no problem."

He mimicked the motion I'd made as well, "I assume your Santana's aunt?"

"Oh," she seemed displeased at the mention of the girl, "Did she do something? She's always getting into trouble an-"

"No, nothing of the sort, in fact, we're really grateful for how she helped my daughter out," he smiled down to her, "Although I'm terribly sorry it had to end with such a marking."

"It's fine, I suppose," she looked back down to the girl, who had yet to look up.

"I was wondering if you two would like to join us for dinner, maybe tonight." Daddy offered, a friendly smile in place.

"Oh," a smile that expressed far more than friendliness crossed the woman's features, "That'd be wonderful."

"Perfect," he pulled out a pen and an old receipt from his pocket, "Let me give you the address." He scribbled quickly before handing over the paper.

"We'll be there," she gave that odd smile once more before heading off and I almost remembered my plans for afterward.

I jogged after the woman, "Ma'am!"

"Yes?" She wondered indifferently.

"Some friends and I are going to the park," I stated, "And I was wondering if Santana could join us? Especially considering she's already dressed for it."

She looked to Santana almost annoyed before shrugging and urging her forward with a slight shove, "Go ahead, just be home before the streetlights are on."

The warning sounded innocent enough, I'd heard it myself plenty of times, but Santana nodded quietly.

"Kurt's bringing sandwiches and tea," I informed.

The first words out of her mouth the entire morning were hardly as excited as I'd expected, "Whatever."

"Well," I mumbled, "We should go find Daddy."

She followed me silently.

In the car Santana was still very if she wasn't prompted. We'd learned that she lived "around," her aunt was "alright," her favorite food was "whatever," and she was feeling "fine." The closest we'd gotten to definite answers were that she had just moved here and would be attending Lima Elementary after summer. At the house she sat on the couch while I went upstairs to change quickly. When I came back, sheet in hand, she was on the couch while Dad sat in his armchair and Daddy on the arm of it as they questioned her.

"So, Santana, how old are you?"

"Seven," she mumbled.

"And you live with your aunt?"

"Yes."

"What about your parents?"

Daddy elbowed dad at that question.

"Let's go Santana," I offered her an escape.

"Um," she looked to daddy, "I'll bring your stuff back."

"What stuff sweetie?"

"Your icepack and towel," she mumbled, "I'll clean 'em and bring 'em back."

"It's fine, I swear, as long as you're alright," he smiled.

She nodded.

"Where are you two going?" Dad queried.

"Picnic with Kurt and Mercedes," I beamed.

Worry crossed both their faces but Daddy spoke, "Are you sure you guys should go there?"

I nodded, "Noah will probably be there." That suggestion could go either way with the boy's reputation, but they both finally nodded.

"There are some cookies on the counter if you want to take them."

I smiled and went to get them, Santana following me. I tried getting them but they were on the wall.

"Move," Santana grumbled and when I stepped out of the way, about to complain about her rudeness she grabbed the cookies and held them out to me.

"Thank you, although a simple excuse me would have worked," I commented, taking the cookies.

"Whatever."

I pouted slightly, but it was replaced by a smile as we left. I could already see that the boys were playing across the street. Kurt had set up his blanket by the sidelines where the other girls usually sat; Mercedes was on her way from the parking lot so we made our way over. I set up my blanket neatly and Santana sat down quietly. More people were obviously coming, but we just enjoyed our picnic.

"Who's this?" Kurt wondered, taking in the tanned girl next to me.

"Weren't you at church today?" Mercedes wondered.

I waited for her to answer but when she just nodded I decided to do it, "This is my friend Santana. Santana, these are Kurt and Mercedes."

"Hi," she offered.

"What happened to your nose, girl?" Mercedes questioned.

"It doesn't matter," she scowled, watching as Azimio caught the football.

"I could cover it up if you want," Kurt offered.

She shook her head.

"Well, I brought cookies," I offered to the group, appreciating the grateful look Santana gave as the attention was transferred from her.

Kurt started passing out the sandwich triangles and juice boxes, claiming his mother assured him they would be more appropriate for a picnic. Mercedes provided the brownies we'd come to love every time her mother made them. The other kids must have recognized it as they soon joined us, the boys crashing on the ground, not caring about grass stains as we had to divide up the food further. Quinn Fabray and Brittany Pierce found places on the blankets with us, while Artie Abrams and Tina Cohen-Chang had their own blankets.

"Your dads always buy the best cookies," Noah offered me.

"I know," I smiled at him.

Azimio was going to say something but David silenced him with a punch as he sipped from his water bottle.

"Who's the new girl?" Quinn voiced, looking over Santana curiously.

"Santana," I mentioned, noticing that she wasn't eating like everyone else had been. I tapped her shoulder to get her attention, "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I'm fine," she shook her head.

"But it's for everyone," I offered.

She honestly looked like she wanted to, but she shook her head again.

"Here," I pushed my sandwich into her hand and the last piece of brownie.

She looked at me curiously before mumbling, "Thank you."

"It's no problem," I smiled at her gladly.

"Were you trying to look like a cat?" Brittany asked as she looked over the girl.

"What?"

"Your nose, it looks like my cat Lord Tubbington," she explained.

"Um, I got hit?"

"Was it Lord Tubbington? He gets so antsy when hasn't been smoking, I'm sorry if he hit you," the girl seemed flustered.

Santana looked to me for an explanation, and I probably wasn't the one to give it.

"Britt, I doubt your cat hit her," Quinn mumbled past her sandwich.

"Oh, well, then would you like to meet him?" She asked, her expression growing excited.

"Sure," Santana sounded unsure.

"If you don't want to, just say no, Britt's a big girl," Quinn mumbled.

"I'll meet your cat," Santana offered, "Can, um, Rachel come too?"

"Of course," Brittany beamed at us, "Rachel, have you met Lord Tubbington?"

"No, Brittany, but I can't wait to," I smiled at her.

"Bianca's cooler," Noah announced.

"Bianca?" The dark-haired girl looked confused as she looked to the boy.

"My dog, she's like part wolf," he grinned cockily.

"Stop lying, Puck," Mercedes challenged.

"She's totally part wolf, she's way too big to just be a normal dog," he assured.

"She's really fluffy too," Brittany offered.

"And vicious," Noah added.

"She's the sweetest thing you'll ever meet," Kurt assured.

"As far as you know," the boy smirked.

"Do you have any pets?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"She doesn't need one with you around Berry," Azimio finally made his presence known.

Her relaxed, if it could even be called that, was replaced by anger as she stood up, "Want to repeat that."

Azimio stood up, "I don't think I need to repeat anything except yesterday."

"Chill, man," Dave urged.

Noah was up this time, standing in front of the girl. Everyone else was standing up as well, hoping they wouldn't have to pick sides.

"Maybe we should go?" I asked, grabbing Noah and Santana's hands.

Puck looked around nervously, "Yeah."

"No," Santana stated, "Let him repeat it."

"Gladly," he lunged forward and tried to hit her, but Dave grabbed the back of his shirt, stopping him with enough time for Santana to get in her own attack. We watched in shock as she made sure he sported the same mark she did, but with the crack we heard we were all certain his nose was broken. The blood spurted furiously down his face as David started dragging him away with help from Finn.

Her fists clenched at her side and her breathing was heavy as she watched the boy get dragged away.

"It's good he's finally getting a taste of his own medicine," Kurt mumbled as he watched the boys.

"Azimio's always been so mean," Brittany sounded disappointed.

"I call the swing," I announced, knowing it would get everyone's attention as I made a beeline for the serious of swings. It did its job as everyone made their way over, although Santana didn't run so much as trot over, leaning on the pole as she watched me. Kurt, Brittany, Mike and I got to the swings first. Quinn pushed Brittany, Artie pushed Mike, Mercedes had Kurt, and Noah, as usual, pushed me.

"Check this out," Mike called as he got higher than everyone else just before jumping off and rolling to a standing position. He dusted sand out of his messy hair. Artie quickly replaced him on the swing.

"I knew he was a ninja," Noah declared.

Brittany and Quinn soon swapped and Kurt and Mercedes did the same.

Santana was still just watching us all when Puck urged, "Rach, let me have a turn."

"No," I got off, putting my hand on his chest when he tried to take the seat, "Let Santana have a turn."

He groaned but let her on, actually, he waited while I urged her onto the seat and he pushed her for a while before his whining grew annoying. He might have acted tough but he was a big baby most of the time. The only upside was that it stopped when he took his kicking upon himself and joined the boys in their jumping contest. Santana helped me to fold my blanket and throw the trash, something Noah would have complained about.

"Do you want to come back to my house?" I asked as we walked back to the group.

She looked up to the bright orange sky, "I guess."

I smiled brightly at her before going to hug my friends, Noah seeming reluctant to get off the swing, and Kurt and Mercedes making me promise we'd have a sleepover.

Brittany bounced up to the raven-haired girl and pulled her into a more than unexpected hug, "I can't wait for you to come and meet Lord Tubbington."

"Okay," her lips curled in the shadow of a smile.

The blonde even spared me a hug before going back to her shorter friend.

At the house Dad and Daddy were watching a movie. We headed up to my room and sat on my bed.

"You didn't get in trouble for going home late, did you?" I wondered.

"It doesn't matter," she mumbled, rubbing the back of her head anxiously.

"I'm sorry if you did. What were you even doing at the park by yourself?"

"My aunt wanted me out of the house."

"She seems odd."

"That's not the word I'd use, " She scoffed at that, "What about you? Why were you there alone?"

"I wasn't alone, Noah just-"

"Sucks," she supplied.

"No, he just wanted to play with his other friends."

"And why weren't you playing with them, or sitting with the other girls?"

"I don't know how to play football and the boys usually tell me I can't because I'm a girl. Quinn doesn't particularly like me, so I don't usually sit with her and Brittany."

"Brittany seemed nice," I saw that shadow of a smile again.

"She is," I nodded.

"What's with that Azimio kid?"

I shrugged, "He doesn't like that I have two dads."

"That's stupid."

"It is not stupid! My dads love me just as much as any mom and dad could love their child. I'm lucky enough to have two parents when some children don't have a-"

"Chill," she shook her head, "I meant about Azimio."

"Oh."

She wasn't looking at me, "Your dads seem nice."

"They are," I smiled.

She fell silent again.

I looked around the room for something to keep from boring my companion, "Do you like Connect Four?"

"Never played."

"Really?" I couldn't hide the excitement in my voice as I leapt from the bed and went to the chest at the foot of my bed and pulled out the box. I got on my knees on one side and set up the board and separated the checkers, "What color do you want?"

"Red?" She asked.

"Alright," I passed her the pieces.

"You want to get four of your color in a row, horizontally, vertically, or diagonally," I explained.

"What?"

I often forgot how much more advanced my vocabulary could be compared to my peers, "Up, down, or across."

"Oh, okay," she nodded.

We played the first few rounds and, of course I won. But I didn't really become competitive until about the fifth. Santana started winning quickly and I got almost upset. Most games I could tell when Dad or Daddy were just letting me win, but they were genuinely just bad at Connect Four. I'd never lost to them, Noah, or Kurt before then. Santana was really good, and finally I just decided we needed a new game.

"Sorry?"

"For what?"

"No, the game," I explained, opening the chest once more.

"For losing?" She teased as I traded boxes.

I stuck my tongue out at her before setting up the board. Once more she was red and I claimed yellow. I explained the rules again and we started playing quickly. It proved to be another game she was unnervingly good at although I got the odd feeling she was letting me win every few games. This game lasted longer than Connect Four, keeping us distracted until Dad called us both downstairs. Santana hung back slightly when she saw her aunt walking in the front door.

"San, come here," she called the girl over.

"I'm so glad you could make it," Daddy greeted.

"Thank you for having us," she gave a smile that hardly looked genuine, "You have such a lovely home."

"Thank you," Daddy smiled, "Hiram's almost finished with dinner."

"Hiram?" The older woman questioned.

"Yes, my husband," he offered, before going to the kitchen door, "Rachel could you show them to the dining room?"

"Yes, Daddy," I smiled before waving them after me.

I heard the older woman mumble something about, "The good black men," But ignored it as I lead them to the large table in the dining room.

I took my seat usual seat quickly and Santana took the one next to me while her Aunt sat opposite her.

Dad and Daddy soon came in carrying a salad bowl and a plate of steaks, "I'm sorry it took us a moment. It's wonderful to meet the girl who helped our little Rachel and her aunt."

"You don't know how much of a relief it is to find out she hasn't been getting into trouble," The woman sighed.

"She's been no trouble," Daddy said, "She's a pleasant addition to Rachel's group of friends."

"That's good to hear."

Santana was mostly quiet through dinner, even with my prompting for her to speak. Her aunt spent most of her time talking to Dad and Daddy, well, mostly Daddy. When they did leave I gave Santana a quick hug before inviting her back. Daddy assured the woman, Marian, as we'd learned, that Santana was welcome back anytime. They drove off quickly, and with a sort of finality although Dad and Daddy were chuckling over something I didn't quite understand yet.

"The Jewish husband thing didn't seem to be enough of a hint to her," Dad chuckled as he pulled Daddy close for a peck on his cheek.

"I wasn't entirely sure how to let her know it wasn't going to happen."

"I think it's cute," Dad shrugged.

"You say that now, but what happens when she's using that child as an excuse to come over?" The darker man wondered.

"Did you notice she really didn't seem to be paying much attention to her?"

Daddy nodded, "It really isn't our business."

"I know, but it still seemed odd."

"If there's anything to worry about I'm sure we'll find out."

"Of course, but for now, she and Rachel seem fine."

"Aside from the Adams boy."

"Yes, well, we should probably speak to his father."

"Rachel, bath time," Daddy called to me on the stairs before turning back to Dad, "I'll try tomorrow."


	2. No kids play at the parks here

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters. The M rating's just to be safe for now. Maybe some triggers but I don't want to give anything away. Angst. I haven't done much research yet so all mistakes are my own.**

"Rachel, where are you going?" Daddy asked from the desk in the living room.

"To the park," I smiled brightly, brushing the front of my yellow skort down over my legs.

He looked down from his computer, "It's a bit early, don't you think? Is anybody else even out?"

I moved to look out of the window; a few adults were out with pets, "Um…"

"Maybe you should call one of your friends,"

"I can see if Noah-"

"Maybe call Kurt or Mercedes first?" He almost pleaded.

"But Noah walks faster," I debated.

He sighed and nodded, "The numbers are by the phone."

I went and searched down the list for the familiar letters that formed my friend's name. I dialed them as I'd learned to do and waited for the ring.

"Hello," a scratchy young voice answered.

"Good morning Noah, it's Rachel," I chirped happily into the phone.

"Oh, hey."

"Who is it, bring it here kid," a gruff voice came in the background.

"It's for me dad," Noah pulled the phone away from his ear. "What do you want, Rach? It's so early."

"I was wondering if you wanted to come to the park, maybe you could bring Bianca," I supplied.

"I don't know-"

"Hang up the stupid phone and get me a beer," the voice called again.

It fell silent for a second on the other end until, "I'll leave now."

"See you, Noah."

I jogged to the door and had my hand on it when Daddy called, "I doubt Noah's already at the park."

"I know, but I wouldn't mind waiting for him," the childish itch to feel the sunlight on my skin making me bounce excitedly.

"Well, do I at least get a kiss goodbye?" He wondered, turning from the computer and leaning down.

"Uh huh," I grinned, running back to kiss his cheek before finally getting to tug the door open.

I hadn't expected to see Santana here so early, especially not without some formal plan, but she was sitting there on the patio steps with her elbow on her knee and her chin on her palm. She turned around at the sound of the door and hopped up, the objects in her hands more visible.

"Santana," I grinned, "Have you come to play with me and Noah?"

She shook her head slightly, holding up the icepack, wrapped slightly in the somewhat cleaner but still stained towel, "I brought your stuff back."

I took them curiously and placed them on Daddy's desk for him to turn and smile, "Hello, Santana."

"Hi," she mumbled shyly.

"Well, can you go to the park with us anyway?"

"I guess," she nodded.

"Great and Noah's bringing his dog," I grabbed her hand, ready to tug her along with me the whole way.

"Streetlights Rachel," Daddy called after us.

"Yes Daddy!" I replied before shoving the door shut.

At the park we waited for Noah on the play structure. Santana didn't seem particularly amused by it, waiting for me at the top of the slide the few times I went down it and by the monkey bars as I crossed. When we did see Noah, Bianca playfully at his side, he was jogging up to us hurriedly, looking over his shoulder. His dark hair was blown back as if he'd run the whole way here. Judging by the panting of his dog he had.

"Why'd you bring her?" He asked as they climbed onto the highest level of the structure.

"Because she's my friend," I explained, petting the large dog as I sat down with my legs crossed.

The two glared at each other skeptically for a moment before he spoke, "Azimio yelled at me because of her."

"She kept Azimio from hitting me," I pointed out, holding the dog off as she tried licking my face.

"Azimio wouldn't have hit you," he didn't even sound certain.

"And my nose isn't black," she scoffed.

The dog seemed to have taken note of her for the first time. The furry black mass moved over to sniff her face. She seemed concerned by it for a moment, and she almost shouted when the dog tackled her to lick her face.

"Bianca," I scolded, tugging the dog's collar, "She's really nice, I promise."

Noah had a smug look on his face at Santana's response.

I sat next to Santana and held her hand for the dog to lick carefully.

"Rachel, let's go on the swings," Noah asked.

"We're playing with Bianca, Noah," I explained and patted my other side for him to sit next to me.

"She likes to watch us on the swings," he stated, "I'll even push you."

"No thank you," I smiled at him before moving Santana's hand up to the dog's ear, "She likes when you scratch here."

"Let's play Rach," Noah whined.

"Aren't the boys coming out to play football?" I wondered.

He shrugged, "I don't know. You're the one who called me to play."

"Well, you usually just leave me," I reminded, "Can't you play with me and Santana?"

"I don't want to play with Santana!" He stomped.

"Noah, stop being so mean. All Santana did was stand up for me, and you're being a big baby," I alerted.

"Whatever Rachel, I can go," Santana stood up.

"No Santana, Noah shouldn't be so mean to you," I grabbed her hand and looked back to the boy, "You need to apologize."

"No," he ground out, "I don't need to apologize to your-" he paused to think of a word, and when he finally came up with one I couldn't quite believe it, "fucking pet dyke."

Noah had never yelled at me, much less cursed at me. So I couldn't really help it when the tears started slipping down my cheeks.

"No," his voice dropped, "Rachie, I'm sorry," he reached to pull me into his arms but I stepped back, bumping into Santana.

Santana didn't seem entirely sure how to handle the situation, so she looked up to Noah, confused. She rubbed my back gently, "Um, please stop crying Rachel. I don't think he meant it, he was just being stupid."

"Yeah," Noah nodded, moving closer to me, "I was being stupid. I'll play with you guys, okay? I won't even play football today, just stop crying."

I shook my head when he finally got me into a hug, "N-no, we don't n-need you b-being mean. Go b-be stupid with Azimio."

"I'll be nice, okay Rachie?" He asked, rubbing my back gently, "I'll even push Santana on the swings."

I turned to look over Noah's arm to the other girl who looked just as confused as the dog at her side.

I shook my head firmly and pushed away from him, "No. Noah, you never play with me when the boys are around and when people are mean you just watch. Santana's been nice to me when everyone's around and you can't even get along with her. Just leave us alone."

"Rachie," he pleaded.

"No," I said moving to stand next to Santana.

He huffed and crossed his arms, "Fine, come on Bianca." The dog followed after him quickly. We watched him storm away. I watched until he turned the corner to his street. I whipped my eyes before looking up to Santana. She looked anxious.

"You shouldn't have done that," she shook her head before holding my wrist and dragging me from the play structure, "You should go get him."

"He was being mean to you," I argued, trying to make her stop but she was stronger than me.

"He's your friend, I can go," she tried to encourage, still pulling me from the park.

"Santana no," I argued, finally getting her to release her grip, "You're my friend too, and if he can't accept that he can go home."

She turned to look at me, still looking very uncertain.

"Now do you want to play or would you like to just go home too?"

She shrugged but shook her head and allowed me to lead her to the swings. She pushed me for a while before taking to her own swing. Soon Brittany and Quinn joined us. Santana even gave up her swing for Brittany even though there were enough swings for all of us. We watched as more children showed up. Artie and Tina played with the boy's new radio. Finn and Mike threw their football back and forth for a while. Santana spent her time pushing me and Brittany, she even tried to push Quinn but the shorter blonde didn't particularly seem to like it. Finally, we had to leave though.

}{

I wasn't thrilled leaving the park as early as we had, but Santana wanted to walk me home and she had to leave much earlier than everyone else if she wanted to make it inside before the lights. She left me with a slightly awkward hug at the door. Daddy was surprised to see me home so early. When I went to lean on his lap and look up to the computer screen he pulled me onto his lap.

"Didn't expect to see you home so early," he mumbled as he kissed my head.

"Santana wanted to walk me home before she had to go," I mentioned as I tried to make out a few of the words on Daddy's document on the screen.

"It's pretty early," he pointed out, still typing.

"She said she had to leave early if she wanted to get home before the streetlights come on."

"Where does she live?"

"She wouldn't say," I shrugged.

"She must live pretty far then," he nodded, "What about Noah?"

I made a face at the thought of the boy, "He was mean to Santana so he went home."

"He'll straighten at; boys are usually pretty stupid when they're young," he teased.

"You and Dad aren't stupid," I pointed out.

He chucked into my hair as he kissed me again, "Dad has his moments.

I smiled playfully as I continued watching him work.

"So, Rach, are you excited about meeting your new instructor tomorrow?" He asked.

"Uh huh," my head bobbed excitedly, "I'm going to be on Broadway."

"You absolutely are," he agreed as his hands left the keyboard to tickle my ribs as I squirmed and squealed on his lap.

I spent the rest of the afternoon on Daddy's lap, mostly watching him work although every once in a while he'd take a break to show me funny videos or let me play a quick game. Eventually, Dad came home. We sat down for dinner and he asked some of the same questions as Daddy. After dinner, we sat down to watch a movie. Dad sat on one end of the couch with Daddy's feet on his lap while he spread out. I rested against the back of the couch with my head on Daddy's chest while we watched. I didn't remember the end of the movie or even falling asleep but, as usual, I ended up in my own bed.

}{

Waking up at seven in the morning wasn't bad, in theory. When my new instructor suggested our lessons be scheduled so early it didn't seem so bad, but when I actually had to get up and ready at so early an hour, especially during the summer, it was a whole other story. I was sluggish and tired but when Dad and Daddy assured me that being ready and determined was how I was going to get to Broadway, I was a bit more ready for the day. I was in the backseat, buckled in and ready as Dad wished me good luck with a kiss on my cheek before closing the door and letting me drive off with Daddy.

The lesson was actually pretty fun. It was exciting to try out some exercises along with the instructor's piano. I was particularly excited about telling Santana about the lesson. I couldn't wait to tell her about it and as we pulled into the driveway Daddy assured me I wouldn't have to wait long. When we finally parked and he assured me I could take my seatbelt off I did. I was out of the car quick enough to see Noah sitting on my patio, looking very apologetic, with a sleepy Santana leaning into his side.

"I told you he'd straighten out," Daddy reminded. "How long have you two been here?" He asked them.

Noah shrugged, "I got here after Santana."

"Did you apologize?" I demanded.

He nodded sheepishly, "I did."

I looked to Santana for verification and she nodded as well.

"What are you guys going to do today?" Daddy asked.

"I don't know, Rachel's the one with the plan," Noah shrugged.

"How about I play with you guys today? You play football, right Noah?" He asked as he headed to the door, ruffling the boys shaggy hair as he did.

"Yep," he grinned proudly.

"Think you might be up to helping me teach the girls how to throw?" The older man asked.

Noah just nodded and waited on the patio with us.

"Where were you?" Santana finally asked.

"I went to meet my new singing instructor," I informed beaming at the pair, "I got to try new exercises with the piano, and I might even learn how to play!"

"You're already like an awesome singer," Noah huffed, "Why do you need an instructor?"

"So I can get better."

"You're already awesome," the boy grinned cockily, "Besides, you and Mercedes are going to sing back up for me when I'm a rock star and Santana's going to be my groupie."

The girl looked to him skeptically, "How come I'm just a groupie?"

"'Cause the groupie's are always with the lead singer," he pointed at himself with his thumb, that haughty smirk still on his face.

"I don't know why anyone would want to be your groupie then," she scoffed.

"Besides, I'm going to be a star on Broadway, not just some backup singer," I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Broadway's nothing compared to touring with me," Noah corrected, "I'm going to be a rock star like my dad."

Daddy came out and dropped his own football into Noah's hands before picking me up and hoisting me onto his shoulders, "What about you Santana? Rachel's going to be on Broadway and Noah's going to be a rock star. What do you want to be?"

She shrugged slightly, following us as we made our way across the street, "Maybe a doctor."

Daddy nodded as we reached the field, "That's a good job. Any reason why?"

She shrugged again, "My dad's a doctor, and he used to help people."

"That's pretty noble," he kneeled down to let me climb off his shoulders, "Maybe you can help Noah when I whoop his butt at football," he teased.

"You're too old to whoop me," Noah grinned cheekily.

Santana nodded and smiled pretty broadly, at least compared to the smiles I'd already seen.

Noah threw him the football and Daddy caught it with ease. "Rachel, come here," he called and kneeled down next to me. "Hold the ball with your fingers on the laces," he pointed out before handing me the ball.

I nodded and took the ball. He showed me how to pull my arm back and then throw it to Noah who caught it easily.

"Your turn Santana," he waved the girl forward and she was a bit hesitant. It didn't get past Daddy, especially when she stiffened in his arms, "Relax," he urged, "I don't bite," he teased. He instructed her the same way although Noah almost dropped it when she threw it. "Good," Daddy exclaimed, "Now who's on whose team?"

"I'll be on Noah's," I offered.

"Alright," Daddy grinned before he and Santana stepped back, "You guys take the ball first."

"'K," Noah nodded, before explaining our plan to me.

We played for quite some time. Our clothes were pretty dirty when we collapsed in a laughing heap. Santana had visibly relaxed in Daddy's presence and Noah was quite a bit less hostile towards her. Some of the other kids had even joined, a few times Daddy chose to sit out and referee with the larger boys like Finn and Dave in the game, but he spent just as much time actually playing. We were all fairly relaxed and having fun until Noah's dad came.

"Boy," the man called from his beat up old pick up, "What you doing?"

"Playing," he answered as he jogged to the car.

"Not with them you ain't," the man called.

"I'm just playing dad," he whined.

"First I catch you playing football with girls and now you're whining? Boy, get in this truck."

"I have to go," Noah sighed to us.

"Bye Noah," a few of us called back.

Daddy seemed disappointed but sighed, watching as the game continued. The group diminished as it got closer and closer to dusk. Finally, Daddy, Santana, and I were all that was left. Santana seemed somewhat anxious as we went back to my house. She stood on the patio with us.

"Santana, sweetie, where do you live? I can give you a ride home," Daddy offered.

"It's fine Mr. Berry," she shook her head.

"I insist," He turned to go to the car, "You were here obscenely early, and you've been playing all day, you must be tired, and the lights are about to come on soon, I don't want you getting in trouble."

"Eh," she didn't seem too thrilled but couldn't quite think of a way out of it.

"I hope you don't mind sitting in the back with Rachel," he opened the car doors and let us in.

She followed my lead as I pulled my seatbelt on.

She instructed Daddy the way to her house, all the while assuring him it was the right way every time he asked. Finally, we were in a somewhat rundown neighborhood. A sign just on the outskirts of it said, "Welcome to Lima Heights Adjacent." The neighborhood didn't exactly look kid friendly as we drove through, looking for Santana's house. When we pulled up to an obnoxiously blue house he pulled in and she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Santana," Daddy stopped her, taking on an inquisitive tone, "I didn't know you lived so far."

"Yeah," she mumbled nervously, "I'm sorry you had to bring me."

"It's fine sweetie, really, but," he worried his lip, "If you don't mind me asking, why do you play in Lima instead of finding a park here?"

She looked out the window anxiously, "No kids play at the parks here; just women that ask for car rides and men with zip-lock baggies."

Daddy nodded understandingly before pulling off his seatbelt, "I'll walk you to the door. Rachel stay in the car."

"You don't have to," Santana was already getting out.

"It's fine," he assured before getting out of the car, although he kept looking back to it.

I couldn't hear much else as I watched Daddy knock on the door. He greeted Santana's aunt and spoke to her for a little while before coming back to the car. The streetlights came on just as he got in. "You have an interesting friend sweetheart."

"She isn't in trouble is she?" I wondered.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, although there wasn't much conviction, "I don't think so."

}{

Our summer went in much the same fashion; Santana, Noah, and I playing until we had to part ways. With Santana around, I noticed Noah really had become a better friend to me. He defended me from Azimio more often, and was a little more concerned with actually playing with me. I even grew closer to other kids like Santana and Quinn. Football and the park were of course permanent fixtures in our usual plans but on especially hot days if Daddy wasn't busy he'd set up the sprinkler in the backyard for us to play in. I think one of those hot days, when Santana was late getting home and made sure to avoid Daddy's offer to take her was when the most exciting thing that summer happened.

I had just finished brushing my teeth and saying my prayers. The lights were off and I was in bed comfortable when I heard a light tapping at my window. I was a bit worried, doing as Dad had taught me and singing to keep thoughts of monsters away. I was in the middle of Don't Rain on My Parade when the tapping continued. I got up enough nerve, and drew the blankets up to my nose, and turned to the window, seeing a familiar form there.

"Santana?" I asked as I slipped from the bed.

She tapped on the window again.

I opened the lock and opened it as high as I could.

She slipped in and looked around nervously.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

She shushed me, "Don't wake up the whole house."

"Well-" I started but lowered my voice, "well, you didn't answer my question."

"I would have been home late and gotten locked out again," she shrugged, "I can go if you want." She was pulling herself through the window again.

"No, don't go," I stopped her, grasping the hem of her shirt to keep her from going.

"Don't do that," she scowled as she slipped back in, tugging the window closed behind her.

"Sorry," I apologized. "Why does your aunt lock you out?"

"She doesn't like me," she shrugged.

"Why not?"

"I don't know," her expression darkened slightly.

"What are you supposed to do?"

"I don't know," she shook her head; "She just says if I'm not home when the lights come on she'll lock me out."

"Where are you supposed to sleep?"

"I don't know Rachel, she doesn't really care."

I looked around my room a bit anxiously before waving her after me, "Come here." I climbed back into my bed and held up the blanket for her as well. "It can be like the sleepovers I have with Kurt and Mercedes."

She was hesitant but she got in with me. She leaned on her elbow for a second before I urged her to lie down.

"Do you have your singing lessons in the morning?" She wondered as she looked at me over the expanse of my pillow.

"Yes," I nodded.

"I'll leave before you go," she assured, "and come back after."

"'K," I yawned. "I can't wait to play with you and Noah tomorrow."

She was silent for a moment, and I was almost certain she'd fallen asleep when she finally responded, "Thank you for letting me stay Rach."

"It's not a problem San," I yawned once more before falling asleep.


	3. Joe road his Trex into battle

**A/N: I've been flooded with ideas for this story. I'm so excited about it. Thought I'd drop this one. Also wanted to let you guys know I'm like crazy thankful for all of you guys who are still reading this story and reviewing it, especially after that like crazy break from it. Hope my American readers have a happy Thanksgiving and everyone else; hope you guys enjoy the story. Also, I'm on tumblr, and posting updates on there. If you want to follow me I'm .com/**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters. The M rating's just to be safe for now. Maybe some triggers but I don't want to give anything away. Angst. I haven't done much research yet so all mistakes are my own.**

The worst thing about summer was definitely the end, especially when I found out that Santana was in the grade ahead of me. She wasn't really older, my birthday just came late. On the first day of school I was heartbroken, making her come with me to my first class before the bell rang. She hugged me and promised to find me at lunch and during recess. If you ask me, the second grade is still pointless, but then it was just keeping me away from my friends. I would have hated it even more had, in the middle of the class, the teacher not announced that older students from the neighboring rooms would come to help us. Some students who'd already finished their work, a color by number picture, headed to the first-graders room, but I waited patiently, grinning ear to ear when Santana got to come to our room with other third-graders. She came to my table, and "helped" us with our work.

"How the hell are you still coloring?" She asked me as she handed me the next color.

"I'm sorry if you can't appreciate coloring in the lines," I mumbled, staying focused on my coloring, my tongue poking out between my lips.

I knew her face was scrunched up in the way it always was when I used a bigger word than her. I couldn't hide my slight smirk.

"How come Noah couldn't help?" I wondered, finally looking up from my picture.

"Our picture had addition," she explained, pulling out the folded up paper from her pocket to show me. A big eared gray mouse holding a piece of cheese filled it up. A red smiley face and a large red A were at the top of the paper. The problems were all solved and as far as I could tell they were correct, but I had to use my fingers to check. "Puck had to use the blocks," she smirked cockily.

"Don't be mean," I shoved her gently, "He'll get it."

"Sure," she rolled her eyes, handing me the next color.

The teacher came around and saw my picture, "That's very nice Rachel; you're even in the lines."

"Thank you," I smiled up at the woman.

"Santana, do you think you could help some other students?"

The girl shrugged and looked around the table to the other kids, especially an awkward boy named Jacob, "One equals red." She didn't prove to be much help for more than cheating.

"That's not quite what I meant," the woman sighed but moved on.

Santana did actually help my whole table finish before recess. We all turned our papers in and lined up. Santana headed back into her class. When the teachers finally let us outside, Noah was quick to grab a football as he headed to the field to play with the boys. Kurt and Mercedes grabbed a jump rope and all but dragged Santana and I along to come play with them.

"Cinderella?" Kurt asked Mercedes as they took the rope.

"Uh huh," the girl nodded, "You two get in the middle."

I urged Santana to stand by the rope with me, "You can do this right?"

"I guess," she shrugged.

"Okay," I gave Kurt the thumbs up and they started.

"Cinderella, dressed in yella,  
>went upstairs to kiss her fella.<br>By mistake she kissed a snake,  
>How many doctors did it take?"<p>

"One, two, three, four…" we went for a while; even got to the double digits that Santana had to count.

"Can I jump in?" Brittany chirped from next to Mercedes.

"Go for it," the girl nodded.

"Where are you?" Brittany asked.

"Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight…" Santana continued counting.

"Can you guys do two ropes?" She asked.

"Uh," we stopped as Santana lost count.

The blonde clapped, "Hold on," before running to get another of the long ropes.

She gave the rope to Mercedes before taking Kurt's side and showing them how to turn the ropes. They started and built a pattern quickly. Brittany stood next to Santana, off to the side with me before jumping in. It was sort of exciting to watch the blonde girl bounce on both feet and then begin switching between feet. She jumped back out before pushing Santana in. The raven-haired girl only got a few bunny-hops before she was slightly tangled in the ropes.

"Here," she pulled her back to the side, "Follow me." I watched once more as they started working the ropes. Brittany went in first and called Santana in. The girl was hesitant but jumped in, watching her feet as well as the blondes as she did bunny-hops.

Brittany had taught us how to turn the ropes and how to jump by the end of recess, in theory. Santana had gotten the farthest as far as jumping and Kurt was the best at turning. I kept falling, although it might have had more to do with me watching Santana joke around with Brittany rather than the ropes. Finally, we had to go back inside. Our next lesson was reading. I could have easily sped through the next assignment, a boring word search; instead, I waited for Santana. When she finally came it was with the blonde in tow. I couldn't explain my disappointment but it was still nice when she sat with me.

"Umm," she looked over mine, "Cat is right there," she pointed, "Dog," she gestured, "Bite," she had to pick up the paper to keep looking over it.

"San, give me my paper," I whined.

"I don't see Lord Tubbington," Brittany pointed out from next to Santana.

"Huh," I asked curiously.

"There," Santana pointed, "It's the word cat Brittany."

"Oh okay," she nodded, before going back to helping the other girl.

"How did she finish hers so fast?" I wondered silently when Santana finally gave me back my paper.

"I helped," Santana shrugged.

"Isn't that cheating?"

She shook her head, "The older kids help."

"The older kids don't have the exact same paper."

"Whatever," she waved me off, "Go put that in your cubby."

"You guys are going to come play with me right?" I asked when I got back to the table.

"You have to ask?" Santana smiled before letting me hug her and heading back to her own class.

Our second recess went the same as the first. Santana kept playing with Brittany and Quinn even came over to watch us. Brittany tried to get her to jump but with her sundress she just wouldn't. We did much better this time and Santana and Brittany could even jump together although every once in a while Brittany would throw in a playful spin. We went back in and Santana couldn't help me right away. We were on to language arts, and we had to right a few sentences. When Santana finally came in, she said she took so long because they'd had to write sentences about themselves. She wouldn't let me read hers, but I let her read mine.

""I like pie,"" she scoffed, "Who doesn't like Pie?"

"Shut up," I glared, "Why won't you let me read yours?"

""The roof is high,"" she rolled her eyes, "Show off. Everything is high to you."

"It's not my fault I'm better at spelling," I reached for my paper.

"It's not your fault your short either," she pointed out as she handed the paper back.

"Can I read yours, please?" I was almost begging.

She shook her head, "It's stupid."

"No it's not, I just want to see," I pleaded.

"No," she said with finality.

"You're mean," I huffed, crossing my arms.

"A little bit, yeah," she smirked before pinching my cheek. "I'm going to go see if Puck and Brittany are done. I think we have lunch next."

I stuck my tongue out at her but when she mentioned lunch I asked, "Ooh, what did you get for lunch? I brought a sandwich and juice and Daddy cut me some apples this morning."

She blushed slightly at that and looked down, "I forgot mine."

"I can share, if you want," I offered, smiling brightly.

"You don't have to," she shook her head.

"I like sharing with you," I shrugged.

She looked me over curiously, still not entirely used to my generosity, "Okay."

When we were released to our own ministrations in the small cafeteria, our group came back together. Kurt and Mercedes sat to my left, Santana Brittany and Quinn were to my right, while Noah sat across from me with his teenage mutant ninja turtles lunchbox, with the thermos. Kurt was showing Mercedes his Scooby Doo box although I saw him admiring Puck's. Mercedes' was hot pink with the word Diva bedazzled on the front; her mom and had done it and I will still admit to jealousy. Brittany was showing her Tinkerbell lunch pail off while Quinn blushed at her Powerpuff Girls one, although Santana really seemed to like it.

"San, here," I pulled half of my peanut-butter and jelly sandwich apart to hand to her.

She took it hesitantly, "Thank you."

"You forgot your lunch?" Brittany asked. "Here, I usually save my cheese-stick for Lord Tubbington but he should be on a diet anyway."

"Thanks," she blushed.

"You can have my juice," Noah offered.

"I can go to the water fountain," she shook her head.

He insisted, "I don't like apple anyway."

"Thanks," she gave him a small smile.

She'd usually come with an apple or crackers and a zip-lock bag of peanut butter after that, but even if she didn't we were fine to share with her. She, Noah, Brittany, and Quinn had to go to their class when their teacher came but I knew it'd only be a short while before I saw them again. Rachel thanked me with a hug once more before taking off to her class. The rest of the day went in the same manner as it had been. We did our work and then played. Finally, at the end of the day, Santana asked if she could come over to do her homework, but I felt bad telling her I had a new dance class to attend. She shrugged it off and asked if she could come later. I was hesitant during school but nodded. We parted ways on the short walk back to the neighborhood, me going into the house to see Daddy and tell him about my day and her going to help Noah with his homework.

"Double dutch?" He asked as I explained Brittany's strategy of using two ropes.

"I guess," I shrugged, "And she taught us all but she helped Santana out a lot."

"It's good that she's making more friends," he nodded, "How about you? You coping without her in your class?"

"Uh huh, she got to come help me with my work though," I beamed, "Although she mostly just gave me the answers."

He laughed, "Probably not what the teachers meant."

"It wasn't," I pouted and then thought back to her language arts assignment, "She wouldn't let me read her sentences for language arts."

"Maybe they were private. How about you let me read yours and we can put some stuff on the fridge," he offered, leaning back in his chair.

I slipped off of his lap to grab my backpack. I handed him the stack of papers.

He looked through them, a pleasant smile on his face, "How about these two?" He held up two drawings.

"That one's Santana's, she gave it to me," I pointed to the familiar mouse.

He looked at it again, "Wow, an A. Maybe you want to put it in your room then?"

"Uh huh," I nodded.

"Go ahead and take your stuff, and get ready so we can go to your new lesson," he instructed.

"Yes Daddy," I hurried upstairs to do it.

The lesson was as exciting as they all were, but of course I was more excited about telling Santana about it. I left my window open for her as I'd taken to with her late night visits. If not for the sliding of the window, I'd never notice when she came in until she slipped into the bed beside me. She always had to shush me a few times but it never took away from her own excitement to hear about my lessons. I promised to teach her some of the things I'd learned before we drifted off to sleep. I woke up that morning to see her standing under my corkboard, looking at the picture she'd colored before she slipped back out of my window as if she hadn't been there.

}{

I noticed a few things during that year. At least twice a month Santana just wouldn't come to school; the days after she'd be particularly thoughtful and hardly wanted to play. Other days she'd come to school just as thoughtful but I'd notice bruises just under her shirt or she would flinch when I hugged her. She'd always have some excuse as to why and ask me not to tell anyone. It worried me but there wasn't much more I could do than silently nod and sit out of games with her. The backpack she eventually started carrying was the old Power Rangers one Noah used to use in first grade, and sometimes she had a change of clothes in it. Santana's birthday was an especially strange day. Not even a month into school she was "helping" me with an assignment when I first asked about it.

"How do you spell December?" I asked as I read the question.

"Sound it out," she supplied boredly.

"Des-em-ber," I mumbled, "D-e-s-"

"C," she corrected.

"What?" I grimaced in confusion.

"I know, it's stupid," she urged me on.

"C-e-m-b-e-r." I finished.

"Why?" She wondered, looking over the paper.

"It asked when my birthday is," I kept my eyes on the paper as I scribbled.

"Oh," she nodded.

"When's yours?" I asked curiously.

"Um," she rolled her eyes up in thought, "I think it just passed."

"You think?" I gaped at her, "How do you not know when your birthday is? Didn't you do something special?"

She shook her head, "No."

"Your aunt-"

"Doesn't even know when it is," she shrugged.

"That's horrible," I pouted.

"It doesn't matter. It isn't much to celebrate anyway," she tapped my paper, "Finish your work."

}{

I huffed but I was already plotting. At every opportunity that day I told everyone about her birthday when she wasn't around. When she was jumping rope with Brittany I told Kurt and Mercedes and they were already helping me to plan. Somebody told Brittany and she told Quinn. Word got to Matt, Finn, Mike, Tina, Dave, and Artie. Santana knew something was up but didn't question it. That Saturday she came to my house expecting to just play with me and Noah, instead she found all of us camped out on my porch, poorly wrapped gifts in hand.

"Rachel," she groaned, trying to keep her scowl in place.

"I should have asked about your birthday sooner," I shrugged but held up a small bag.

"I didn't need a present," she looked down at the bag.

"But I wanted to get you one," I urged her to take it and she opened the bag, pulling out the little red rubber bracelet with gold stars. She pulled it out and looked it over curiously. I took it from her hand and slapped it down on her wrist, letting it curl around.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"I got you somethin' too," Noah beamed, coming to stand next to her, "Well, it was mine like my ba-" he was going say something but she gave him a somewhat pleading look, "But I want you to have it. The batteries are new though." He handed her the small rectangular object, wrapped in the comics from the newspaper.

She opened it up to find his old game boy, and three games; Tetris, Pokémon Red, and PacMan.

"Puck," she shook her head, "This looks expensive."

He shook his head, "I got a gameboy color now and I beat Pokémon."

She hugged the boy tightly before the gifts could continue. She sat between the two of us on the steps although she leaned into his side. Brittany gave her a cat Beanie Baby that she sat on her lap. Quinn, shyly, gave her a power rangers shirt to "match her bag," Kurt gave her some flavored chap-stick, at his mom's suggestion, and Mercedes gave her some of her mom's brownies. Artie gave her an animorphs book his dad had finished reading him and showed her how the person in the corner changed into an animal. Tina gave her a yoyo, Mike gave her his Jurassic Park T-rex, Finn gave her an old GI Joe, and Dave gave her a Nerf football. Pretty much the end all gift was when Tina pulled out the small plastic coffin. Santana seemed genuinely confused at everyone's gasps.

"What the hell's so exciting about a coffin?" She asked, "I mean, it's cool, but wow."

"Here," I opened it to show her the toys inside. I pulled out a small blue one, "They're crazy bones."

"They don't look like bones," she pointed out, taking a gray one into her hand.

"I lost the handbook but it's from an old Greek game they played with animal bones," I stated smartly.

"Is that Jaws?" Noah questioned, "You said you'd trade me your jaws."

"I never said that," Tina supplied.

"Hold on," Noah was already off his chair, "I'm going to go get mine."

"Me too," Finn called.

"My mom said those were evil," Quinn mumbled.

"You can play with mine," Brittany offered, dragging her friend off of the porch, "We'll be back."

"I made kool-aid," Daddy announced as he came out with a pitcher, "Whoa, party's over?"

"No, everyone went to get their toys," I explained.

"Alright," he looked to Santana next, "So, how do you like being eight?"

She shrugged but her smile was still in place, "It's alright."

"You got a lot of cool gifts," he pointed out, setting the pitcher on the small table. He sat on the steps next to us, "Is that a GI Joe?" He looked between the few of us still there.

"Finn gave it to me," she grinned, moving his arms up and down.

"Only a boy," he shook his head but laughed, "And I see you Rachel's gift."

"Uh huh," she beamed proudly down at the bracelet.

"And what are these?" He asked, rifling through the coffin before picking up a green piece.

"Crazy bones?" She answered still confused.

He looked to me for an explanation just as Noah came back, his own black coffin in hand. "Just watch I assured.

Noah lay on his stomach on the porch and lined up four of his bones while I had Santana sit and set up four of her own. Noah went first, flicking one of his and missing hers. He whined especially loudly when her first shot took out two of his. Soon, the whole porch was swamped with kids cheering on each other as we battled our crazy bones. Daddy watched us, amusement plain on his face as we battled with our toys. Well into the afternoon we played, the hype for the Crazy Bones dying down as everyone settled down with the rest of the toys. Mike showed her how to make the T-rex roar and this prompted her to let Finn set up a battle. Together the three put on an epic battle while Joe road his T-rex into battle against an army of Crazy Bones. If she still had any arguments against the party she wasn't telling.

She didn't protest nearly as much this time when Daddy gave her a ride home. He gave her a plastic bag for all of her toys and she helped us to clean up when all of the other kids had gone home. She shared the rest of her brownies with me and then we were in the car, driving back to her neighborhood. Daddy walked her to the door again and I was a little surprised when she hugged him in the flickering light of her aunt's porch. He kneeled to hug her back before her aunt came to the door. He waited to greet the woman politely but a man came to the door. He seemed upset but Daddy backed off slightly before saying goodbye to Santana again and coming back to the car. We sat silently in the driveway for a while before we went home.

}{

When I asked Santana about the man she said he was just her aunts boyfriend and not to worry about it, but she didn't come directly to my house a few weeks after; in fact, she seemed anxious every time she saw him. She'd sit at the park across the street with Noah, Brittany, or Quinn. She'd bring her backpack full of her toys and she'd play, always leaving before Daddy could offer her a ride. I was really sad when she wouldn't come over after my dance classes. The night she did start coming back changed a lot of things.

I was in bed, almost asleep when I heard the familiar tapping. I had locked the window again when she stopped coming, so I opened it quickly. She slid in and I saw the puffiness around her eyes in the moonlight. Tear tracks stained her face as she looked me over. She didn't say anything right away, just let me pull her bag off and urge her into the bed. She lay down and snuggled into me when I followed. I rubbed her back gently as my fathers did, and considered going to get her some water, but decided against it.

"Are you okay?" I asked silently.

She didn't answer but her crying had ceased.

"What happened?" I tried something else.

Once more, I got no answer beyond her breathing calming.

I sighed and continued rubbing her back gently.

I would have sworn I heard her whisper, "Thank you," before I was asleep as well.


	4. Candy isn't a food

**A/N: Just a little self-conscious about this chapter. Really emotional scenes make me second-guess my own emotional stability. Anyway, don't hate me too much. Thanks to all you guys who read and review, I am really grateful for that. Criticism is always helpful and welcome.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters. The M rating's just to be safe for now. Maybe some triggers but I don't want to give anything away. Angst. I haven't done much research yet so all mistakes are my own.**

"Lee," I heard dad call distantly.

"Yeah," Daddy yawned as he looked past Dad into the room.

"Do you see this?"

I peaked slightly to see Daddy looking us over and nod, "Yeah."

"That's Santana right?"

"Mhum," Daddy hummed, "They've been doing this for a while."

"Really?" Dad sounded shocked.

"Absolutely; Santana usually leaves pretty early though."

"It's raining," Dad pointed out, "What should we do?"

"I was thinking we'd let Rach skip and make breakfast."

"Skip?" Dad questioned.

"It's raining," he reminded, "And I guess breakfast could still work and I'll take Santana home."

"I suppose…" Dad didn't sound sure but Daddy was already coming into the room.

"Girls," he called softly, leaning forward to kiss my forehead and urge Santana up. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me again before passing me to dad who repeated the gesture. I rubbed my eyes slightly as I watched him pick up Santana slightly and as she slumped against his chest, he mumbled an inquisitive, "Hmm."

They carried us into the already lit hallway where I heard him gasp.

"Hiram," he called, trying to keep his voice low.

"What?" Dad turned around but he must have seen before me, because he pressed my head to his chest gently, "Don't look Rachel."

"S'wrong?" I mumbled my voice still groggy with sleep. I turned my head as best as I could before I saw the dark stains at the apex of Santana's pants.

Santana stirred in Daddy's arms and tensed. She jerked slightly and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she chanted. "Don't be mad Mr. Berry," she pleaded, "I'm sorry."

"Santana sweetie you didn't do anything wrong," he soothed, trying to get the frantic girl to calm down.

"Please don't be mad," she kept on, "I'm sorry, J-just please do-don't be m-mad," she'd broken down into sobs, trying to get away from Daddy.

I was fully awake in Dad's arms now, watching my friend panic. I didn't know what to do so I leant into Dad's neck.

"Hiram, get me a blanket," he ordered.

He nodded before taking me into their room and grabbing a throw. He brought it out and handed it to Daddy as he put the girl down, wrapping her in it as he tried to get her to relax.

"Santana, sweetheart," he called holding her just by the edges of the blanket now, "Do you want to watch a movie with Rachel?"

She seemed to calm at my name, looking around frantically until she found me in her line of vision. She didn't exactly respond but Daddy took it as a good thing.

"Get her some of Rachel's clothes," he told Dad and as he took us into my room, going through my drawers I heard him say, "Do you want to take a shower? Rachel can talk to you."

I didn't see or hear her response but Daddy was leading her into the bathroom when we came out. Dad set me down on my feet, handed me the clothes, and urged me forward.

"Are you sure about this?" Dad asked again.

"Shush," Daddy hushed as he started the shower and pulled the curtain back. "Rachel, try to talk to her. Ask her favorite movie, food, things like that okay?"

"Uh huh," I nodded.

He moved to put a wash rag, and soap on the edge of the tub, and handed me a towel. Finally, he left us alone in the bathroom, leaving the door cracked and I saw him sit on the floor across the hall.

Santana climbed into the shower, behind the curtain, before placing her clothes on the edge of the tub.

"What's your favorite color?" I asked as I played with a corner of the folded towel.

"Red," her voice was tinier than I'd expected, more defeated than the pleas she'd made just before.

"Your favorite food?"

I heard the sound of her lathering the soap on the rag, "Candy."

"Candy isn't a food," I pointed out.

She didn't respond to that. We were silent together until she started fiddling with the knobs and the water shut off. I held the towel out for her and she took it, drying herself off quickly before taking the clothes I held out. She stepped out of the shower, dressed in my pajamas as she dried her hair.

"Everything okay, girls?" Daddy asked from outside the door.

"Uh huh," I called back.

"Is Santana dressed? Can I come in?"

I looked to her, waiting for her to reply but when she didn't I took the liberty, "Yes Daddy."

He looked nervously to the girl and kneeled down to talk to her. "You want to watch a movie?"

She shrugged but didn't really meet his eyes.

He held out his hand to her, but she only looked at it warily.

"Rach," he called to me, and I edged towards his side, watching her curiously. Daddy slipped one arm around me and pulled me onto his hip. Santana still watched our interaction curiously. "We're just going downstairs so you two can sit on the couch."

It was another moment of silent stares before she stepped forward and took his hand, not ready to let him hold her so closely.

He stood up and took us downstairs. He let us sit on the couch and put on Thumbelina for us to watch. He brought down the comforter from my bed and let us watch. Santana had drawn her knees up to her chest and was hugging them tightly as she stared at, or maybe past the screen. I'd already stopped watching the movie as I kept my eyes locked on her. She wasn't the same girl who'd helped me with my class work, cursed worse than most adults I knew, or even the girl who crawled in my window to listen to me talk about my lessons. This was the girl I saw at church and at dinner with her aunt; she was subdued and broken. I didn't like this girl nearly as much, I wanted my Santana back.

"San," I mumbled.

She didn't respond right away, just sighed.

"Santana," I called again.

"Hmm," she hummed, keeping her eyes ahead of her.

I didn't actually have anything to say, instead I just moved closer to her underneath the blanket.

I felt her eyes flicker from the screen onto me.

I sat next to her, our shoulders pressed together, and tugged the blanket up just under my chin.

She was tense at first, her eyes still on me, but she finally relaxed and let her eyes slip back to the movie.

I heard Dad and Daddy's voices upstairs every so often. One of their voices would raise and they'd quickly quiet their entire conversation, probably waiting to check on us. We were about halfway through the movie when they came back out. Dad sat on the stairs and Daddy came to kneel in front of us. His voice was gentle as he asked Santana if she wanted to talk about what happened. She didn't. Then he asked if her aunt knew. She shrugged. He asked if she knew her aunts number. Again, she didn't. Finally, he asked if she wanted to go home, and that's when the panic crossed her face again.

"Santana, I need to talk to your aunt okay?" He tried to soothe her.

"No, don't, I'll behave," She shook her and pulled away from him, fitting herself into the corner of the couch, starting her chant of apologies once more.

"Sweetie, I have to, okay?" He moved to her and she closed her eyes tightly, shaking as she clutched her knees again.

I saw the worry in Daddy's face as he pulled back.

"Just come with me, and you can come back after to play with Rach," he offered.

"Lee," Dad warned.

The man only ignored him, trying to coax the girl to calm down.

"We just need to talk to her. I promise, you aren't in trouble and you don't have to do anything you don't want to," his voice was so soft as he said it.

She opened her eyes slightly and I saw the glassiness of them. She looked him over, still looking for any threat. Except for the songs of the movie still going on, the room was silent. Santana's pleas and promises had died down and now she was just scanning over Daddy, trying to gage her trust for him, finally she looked to me. I saw the question in her eyes and assured her with a little nod. Daddy held out his hand again and she looked at it with almost recognition before it slipped away, but she took his hand and let him slowly pull her off the couch to stand before him. He gave her a reassuring smile before standing up to take her to the door.

They were to the door when she looked back at me and mumbled a soft, "Rachel."

I was off the couch, clutching her other hand, ready to follow them.

"Lee, I really don't thin-"

"Hiram, just come with us," his words were still soft, but tinted with weariness.

I saw Dad's eyes set, he was going to argue, instead, his resolve wavered and he took in the sight of us and nodded silently.

We got in the car quickly. Daddy let us buckle ourselves when he saw the panic begin to rise in Santana as he tried to reach over her. The car was silent, save for the worry in Dad's voice as Daddy sped; each growing more and more worried. Daddy grew more upset the closer we got to our destination, his shoulders tensing and his finger thrumming in irritation at every red light or stop sign. He parked haphazardly in the driveway and when he opened the door Santana braced herself. He told Dad to stay with us and went to the door, banging more rudely than I'd ever seen. I'd never seen my Daddy so angry. He talked to the woman, his shoulders set and his motions jerky with anger. Eventually a man came to the door as well, and Daddy all but lunged at him. Daddy wasn't exactly big, I'd heard storied of his athleticism in his younger days, but after the initial shock of a hit to his nose, he overpowered the other man and brushed him out of his way. Dad had his seatbelt off as Daddy slipped into the house, the woman all but on his heels. He cracked the door, ready to go to Daddy's aid.

"Keep the little bitch, she's not worth my time anyway," we could hear Marian's distant shrieks.

I couldn't hear Daddy's response.

"She's not worth your time," the woman went on, "She'll ruin your life, and for what? Her piece of shit father couldn't take her, and her mama's better off dead than dealing with her."

Santana's sob echoed through the car at the same time as the sharp sound of a slap came from the house.

"Don't talk about that little girl that way," Daddy stated, punctuating each word. "You let her get mauled by some asshole, and then you have the nerve to talk about her parents that way? Be glad I haven't already called the cops or-"

"Leroy," Dad was standing from the door now.

Daddy came to shove a pile of clothes into Dad's arms.

"Oh, so you faggots think you can do any better with her, be my guest."

Both men tensed at that. Dad still had clothes in his hand, and Daddy's fists were clenching tightly at his sides. The man on the ground could only watch along with us. I watched Daddy steady his breathing before he shoved his way back into the house. He came out with another armful of things, waiting as Dad dropped them onto the passenger side floor. The man on the ground tried to get up, chest puffed up and his shoulders squared but I watched as Daddy deflected him with a solid hit to the stomach and went back inside. The man fell to the ground clutching his stomach. Marian had gone back inside as well but as Daddy came back out, what looked like a pillowcase and another pile of clothes in hand, she had a shoebox.

"Keep her. I don't want her, in fact, tell her daddy," she threw the box at Daddy before going inside and locking her door.

The contents scattered everywhere; trinkets, envelopes and papers. Dad hurried to pick them up. They slipped into the car. Daddy had his shoulders squared as if he were still ready to fight. Dad tried to reach out and touch him but I saw the jerk of his head that made the other man pull his hand back. We only sat in the driveway for another minute before we pulled out, and I saw the few people who'd been watching from the safety of their own porches.

}{

Dad went to the room quickly, and Daddy calmed himself enough to take us inside. His motions were still rigid as he sat us at the bar in the kitchen. He cooked us a quick breakfast of oatmeal before standing across from us. His anger dissolved slowly to exhaustion as he watched. I ate my oatmeal slowly while Santana only looked at it carefully, not really looking at either of us. Daddy sighed, before walking out, promising to be back. I heard the front door open and close twice before he came back, a book in hand.

"I saw this back there," he placed it on the bar; "I thought you might want it." He slid it across to Santana.

Her eyes finally moved off of the bowl, although that was all that moved.

"Want to tell me about them?" He asked quietly.

Instead of answering she brought her hand up to open the cover. Inside, the first picture was of a baby; a little girl with a head full of darkly colored curls was reaching forward. Underneath a woman, about the same color as Daddy, sitting cross-legged, on the floor; in her lap the same baby rested with her head on the woman's thigh as she toyed with the girl's curls. Santana brought her hand up to the picture, running her thumb over the woman's cheek.

"That you're mom?" Daddy asked gently.

She nodded silently.

"You look like her," he pointed out.

"She's pretty," I mumbled.

I saw the tears slip down her cheeks but she stayed silent as she flipped the page.

The next picture I saw was the dark curls of the baby rested on the chest of a lighter man. His hair was thick but cut fairly short. A thin line of the same dark hair as the baby on his chest ran over his lip. He had a subtle smile on his face as he watched the girl sleeping.

"And that's your daddy?" My own asked.

She made a face and shook her head, "Papi."

He nodded understandingly.

"You look like him too."

The tears were coming more steadily now, but her face was almost blank beneath them. She closed the book and pulled it onto her lap.

"Let's go restart your movie, okay?" He offered, taking our bowls. He put mine in the sink and finished Santana's himself.

We were back on the couch, watching the movie. Daddy was on his computer chair, staring through the screen just as Santana was. She'd wiped her tears but the track marks and redness remained. We really didn't finish the movie; Santana and I just fell asleep, me leaning onto her shoulder. I was jostled awake by her trying to slide off the couch. She muttered an apology before holding out her hand for me. I took it and followed her up the stairs, noticing that Daddy had left. As we reached the top of the stairs I figured out where he'd gone. His and Dad's voices came from their room, and that's where Santana led me. We sat outside the door against the wall.

"Lee, we can't just-"

"We can't just send her back," Daddy argued.

"We can call-"

"Call who? The police? Child protective services?" I could hear the malice in his voice. "So they can take her and put her in another home with more people that don't care about her?"

"Somebody, Leroy; we have to call somebody because we can't just keep a child with a guardian," Dad ground out.

Daddy was silent for a long moment. I almost expected him to come back out when his voice had softened to say, "She's somebody's baby girl."

"Lee," Dad sighed.

"Somebody left her with that woman, hoping, praying that she'd be taken care of,"

"You don't-"

Daddy went on, "Instead somebody hurt her. She's just a little girl. Just like Rachel. In another world, that could have been our," he paused before grudgingly correcting himself, "Your baby girl. Somebody could have done that to Rachel, could have hurt her like that. We can't turn her away."

They were both silent. Santana was still clutching my hand as she listened intently. I could only squeeze hers back reassuringly.

"We can't take her to a doctor," Dad finally breathed out.

"Hiram, we-"

It was Daddy's turn to cut him off, "We're gay men in homophobic Ohio. They've tried to run us out of town for less, if we take her in, they'll try to take Rachel too."

Daddy didn't have to say anything to that.

"Just-" Dad started, "Just ask her what happened. I'll call the school and then go through the papers in that box."

I felt Santana's hand tugging mine again and we stood up to go back downstairs, but not before we heard Daddy sigh, "Just not today. We've all been through enough."


	5. We'd have to be the ones to make it okay

**A/N: This chapter kind of had to come. I'm sorry if some of you don't like it, but I felt it was very necessary for the story. I hope I don't upset anyone too much. Again, thank you for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it, especially the last chapter, the emotion of it made me sort of second-guess myself but I'm glad I could convey it properly. I only hope I can do the same with this chapter and those to come.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters. The M rating's just to be safe for now. Maybe some triggers but I don't want to give anything away. Angst. I haven't done much research yet so all mistakes are my own.**

We spent the day on the couch with movies playing. Daddy had eventually settled on the floor in front of the couch. Dad came to check on us every so often. Eventually they got around to bringing Santana's stuff in. Daddy folded her clothes while we watched our movies and rambled about finding her somewhere to sleep. She didn't seem thrilled with that, but he suggested she stay in my room until he could figure something out. She kept her GI Joe in hand, hugging him slightly as she sat.

In the afternoon Noah stopped by. He was worried about us. When Daddy let him in he sat by Santana and she was more than happy to help him with his homework. Daddy and I watched as she relaxed into the familiarity. Even Noah must have noticed something was wrong though but he didn't bring it up. Instead he tried to cheer her up when they were done. She watched as Joe navigated the terrifying landscape that was the contents of Noah's backpack. The boy left with a tight hug for both of us and a promise to bring our class work and home work until we were back in school.

Dad and Daddy weren't exactly up for cooking so they had Breadstix delivered. They seemed worried that she might not eat but they visibly relaxed as she ate some breadsticks, although not much else. She'd relaxed obviously from this morning. Daddy tucked us into bed quickly as Dad watched from the doorway. When they left, neither of us really slept for a while.

"Santana," I mumbled quietly.

She gave an acknowledging hum.

"Do you want to stay with us?"

She worried her lip slightly before nodding.

"Does that mean we're going to be like sisters?"

She shook her head slightly. My face fell slightly at that but she answered, "Sisters are stupid. We're best friends."

I couldn't help but smile at that, moving closer to her. Our foreheads and knees were almost brushing as we both finally felt the weight of sleep on our eyes.

}{

I wasn't entirely surprised to wake up alone. The bed was cold as I ran my hand over the spot she'd been in before. I noticed a slight draft in my room and that's when the events of the night came back to me. I jolted up in the bed, looking up to the open window to see Santana looking out of it, her head resting on the frame. I moved out of the bed to go stand next to her. She looked at me quickly before looking back out the window. Finally, I took it upon myself to draw Santana away from the window and led her downstairs.

We found Daddy sitting thoughtfully in front of his computer. The familiar sound of keys clattering was absent; in fact the log in screen was still up. His hands rested on his lap as he stared past the monitor. I walked over to him, carefully leaning onto his lap as I usually would. That snapped him out of his thoughts and he let a tired smile cross his face. He pulled me onto his lap and kissed my head before letting his eyes fall to Santana. He waved her forward and she scanned him once more for a threat before coming forward to stand by his side, her palms resting uneasily on his leg where I'd just been leaning. He let his hand fall gently on her shoulder and she examined it curiously before relaxing.

"What do you girls say to some leftovers for breakfast?"

I looked up from the nervous girl before me to nod.

Santana just kept her eyes down, not having much to say.

Daddy carried me into the kitchen and urged Santana with a gentle hand on her back. He sat us down at the bar while he reheated the food. He offered Santana some pasta but she was content to quietly munch on some more breadsticks. Daddy kept his eyes cautiously on her until we were done. He took the plates to the sink before he came back; an apologetic look had crossed his face.

"Santana," he sighed, "Do you think I could ask you some questions?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat but nodded.

He looked to me next, "Rachel, do you think you could go play in your room?"

I was going to agree to when I saw Santana's eyes widen. I looked back to Daddy and knew he'd seen it too.

He exhaled noisily, before nodding to himself, "I guess I'll have to talk to both of you either way." He brought his hands up to run over his shaven head, taking a deep breath before exhaling, "I'm sorry." He looked on the verge of tears, "I'm sorry that the adults in your lives can't to seem to act as such."

I could only watch the alien uncertainty on his face in silence.

"Fighting is never right," he went on, "That man, yesterday, I shouldn't have hit him because that's not how adults behave and your-" he looked to Santana before correcting himself, "I shouldn't have smacked that woman because that's not how good men behave. Neither of you should ever let anyone, much less a boy or man, put their hands on you like that."

All the color drained from Santana's face at that.

Daddy's breath came out as an unsteady shudder this time. He kept his eyes trained on her as his voice softened, "Even if it's not just hitting you."

The girl was shaking slightly, her hands were white as they clenched around the crumbs of a half-eaten breadstick. Her features were haunted by guilt, as if she were awaiting a punishment.

"Nobody should touch either of you anywhere so… so…" he fumbled for a word, "Private, especially not someone you're supposed to be able to trust." His gaze was steadily on the upset girl, "I need you two to understand that it's not your fault if something like that happens. Dad and I won't be upset if you tell us," he assured, waiting until the girl looked up to him through misty eyes, "But you have to tell us so we can help you."

Daddy spoke to both of us but there was an oddly personal way he was watching Santana's reactions. I could only watch the exchange.

"Santana," he started again a different tone in his voice, a warmer, more welcoming one, "Do you think you might like living with us?"

She looked up to him again, disbelief plastered over her face.

"We could clean out a room for you and you could stay here and keep going to school with Rachel."

She still didn't entirely believe the offer but I could see the slightly hopeful nod of her head.

"You can stay, okay? I just need to ask you about what happened at your aunt's house" He kept his voice calm in order to ease the worry on her features, "I just want to make sure you're okay and then you can play with Rachel." She dropped her eyes again to nod, speaking for the first time that morning, "Okay."

"Do you think Rachel can go upstairs while we talk? He suggested, his worried gaze finally flickering to me.

A painful understanding too mature for someone her age crossed her features and she agreed.

"Sweetie, I promise it will be quick but I need you to go upstairs, I'll call you when you can come back down to play, okay?"

"Okay Daddy," I slipped from the stool and followed him out to the living room only to climb the stairs while he ushered Santana onto the couch.

More often than not, I wish I'd listened to Daddy and gone up to my room. Instead, I sat at the top of the stiars where I knew he wouldn't see me, my innate inquisitiveness over-ruling compliance, not for the last time. Their voices were soft and sometimes I had to strain to hear them, but other times were clearer than I could have hoped for. Honestly, Daddy only asked a few questions, which made her many answers seem that much worse. He asked what happened, who was to blame, and how she felt. Each answer was so difficult.

She started off with the hitting and shoving of her aunt and a couple of the men she'd bring home; telling of the bruises she didn't like people asking about. She told him of the wet kisses that were nothing like the playful affections of her papi. Worst of all were the touches; the palms that felt under her shirt and in her panties, the lips and tongue that left wet trails where she didn't want them, and the fingers that probed and filled her. She was so strong, her voice wavered and faltered as she spoke, but she restrained her tears. She didn't cry, at least, not until she told him how it felt. As she explained about the burning between hers I pulled my legs up to my chest. As if reliving each experience at once she sobbed out the overwhelming details of the emptiness that had taken place in her. She cried about being feeling empty as if in being filled as she had something had been taken along with it. Finally, she admitted to wishing she could be with her mommy.

I had to reign in my own tears as I went to my room. The sniffles and sobs echoed back to me into the silence. I waited, hoped, prayed for the call downstairs. I didn't want to be alone. I was terrified for myself, and for my friend, not understanding how something so horrible could happen to her. Naively I remember wondering if an answer would come with age, but it never did. Instead, despite the lessons of childish movies and stories, bad things happened to good people. It felt like evil had prospered. I had to hold myself for a time, wanting nothing more than for Dad or Daddy to hold me and tell me everything would be okay, except it wasn't at that moment. It wouldn't be for a while, and we'd have to be the ones to make it okay.

"Rachel," the call finally came, and I didn't bother hiding my tears. I ran down the stairs, previous warnings forgotten as I searched for them.

Daddy was in the kitchen, Santana on his lap as he wiped her tears with a rag. She clutched the fabric over his chest as she rested her head just where his heart would be. Small shudders shook her, the aftershock of sobs that were slowly passing. I heard Daddy's whispered promises that she'd be alright, that she wasn't at fault, and that he wouldn't let anything happen to her again. I needed attention too in that moment. I placed my feet on the rung of the barstool to pull myself up, resting my head on his lap. He jostled Santana so he could pull me up onto his lap as well, holding us both to his chest, promising us both that everything would be alright.

}{

Dad found us on the couch on a similar manner when he got home. Neither Santana nor I were willing to leave Daddy's presence quite yet. Our tears had stopped but my need for attention hadn't passed and it seemed the first time Santana was willing to accept it from an adult. Daddy indulged us, telling us stories about him and Dad, his childhood, and singing. He was just rambling, and I wondered if it was a distraction for him as well. When dad walked through the door he tried to help, although he'd never been very good with emotional fronts. He pulled me into his arms, providing his own comfort although Santana was less comfortable, choosing to stay with Daddy.

As promised Noah came with our school work for the past two days, but Dad told him we weren't feeling well and probably wouldn't be back for the week. I could hear the dejection in his voice as he told Dad he missed us and hoped they'd feel better. He promised he'd be back tomorrow and left. Santana was grateful for the distraction, taking to her homework quickly. Dad and daddy watched over us, still on the couch, as we worked, rather, I watched as she worked. She did it quickly and easily as if nothing had changed. She didn't speak or divert her attention, just kept focused on the papers before her. The only time she spoke was when she offered to help me; correcting my mistakes and urging me figure things out on my own in that same broken voice. It unnerved me, and I stopped far more easily than her, wanting to just go back to listening to Daddy tell us stories but she encouraged me to finish, almost pleaded at one point.

When the papers were finally done, she looked for anything to do; going back to correct things, writing her name just perfectly on each in the top right-hand corner, or showing the work for her math problems in small dashes. Daddy came to her, trying to take the pages to assure everything was fine, and she gave them up, letting him take them to her backpack. Another small solace she found was watching me play; resting her head on my shoulder as I grew frustrated playing Pacman. It took some time, but eventually my annoyance with the game brought a weak smile to her lips; it was only a shadow of the cocky smirk I was familiar with but it was something.

Wednesday was when Noah started showing up with more than just our homework. At first it was a couple drawings for us from Brittany. Then it was some from both blondes, Kurt and Mercedes. Noah even gave Santana the quiz he'd passed because of her assistance with his spelling. Finally, on Saturday a few of them came, more pictures in hand. Dad was going to tell them we still weren't feeling well when Santana moved past him. She was still very silent, and worry coated all of their young faces as they took in the subdued girl. She didn't really want to play but she went along to watch, shuffling through the pictures of dinosaurs roaring, "Get well," unicorns whinnying of how much they missed her. I'd seen the haphazardly drawn stars and cats wishing the same to me. Everyone wanted to play, but at one point or another they gravitated back to us between their games. That seemed to have been the best distraction for Santana.

Santana finally indulged in more than just some breadsticks. Daddy got Dad to let us eat in the living room, and he kept his eyes on us as we sat with the plates on our bowls of tomato soup on our laps and our grilled cheeses in hand. Daddy put on some cartoons that I suspected were more for his benefit than ours but it was nice. Dad, his own weariness showing, seemed amused as he looked over the three of us, almost happy together for the first time in days. That was our first dinner together as a whole family.

}{

Santana was far more willing to go back to school than I was; Dad said it was best that we both get back to our normal schedules, although I wasn't thrilled when Santana had started sleeping on the couch. Daddy bought us both new lunch boxes; mine had a ballerina on it while Santana's was power rangers. "To match your bag," he claimed although she admitted she'd never seen the show. After he let her watch a few episodes she decided she liked the set. She seemed a bit awkward with it at first, but she got used to carrying it in hand. She was still shyer in school than before but I saw glimpses of her. At lunch she was happier trading foods than she had been taking them. She was more likely to turn the ropes in double-dutch now, to Brittany's displeasure. Noah took a more protective role over the two of us. He tried jumping rope with us, but she assured him he didn't have to, but every so often during games I'd notice him watching us. Settling back into school seemed to be the easiest thing for her, doing her work and helping me and our other friends.

Even when we went home the difference was obvious. While her voice was still softer, we heard it more, although she wasn't used to the praise that came along with her work. The first time Daddy put one of her quizzes up on the fridge she could only stare at it, pausing every time she passed it. She still treaded through the house as if she were a guest; asking permission to go between rooms or take something from the fridge. Daddy and Dad assured her she didn't have to but the habit was hard to break. They both saw the differences in her personality, but Daddy assured me if I gave her time she'd get back to herself.

I still kind of clung to the idea of having a sister, even though Santana assured me it was stupid. She wasn't being mean; she just didn't seem to like the concept of it. I loved being her best friend, either way. She'd taken to the couch, keeping her blanket folded on the arm, but some nights she still came to my room. Tapping at the window had been replaced by the sliding of my door over carpet. She was more hesitant now, as if she wouldn't have previously slipped under the covers along with me.

"Rach," she called gently.

"Hmm," I grumbled sleepily.

"Can I sleep with you?" I heard the thickness of her voice and opened my eyes.

I rubbed them slightly, still not seeing easily into the dark. "Course," I mumbled, scooting over for her.

She slipped under the blanket and immediately moved to snuggle with me. I felt the tears on my neck right away and hugged her, rubbing her back as I had the last time she came to my room crying.

"S'wrong?" I murmured into her hair.

"Bad dream," she mumbled, her tears falling silently otherwise.

"Want to tell me 'bout it?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"'Kay. S'go to sleep though," I yawned slightly, "It won't come back."

She made an uncertain sound but nodded.

I kept my eyes open until her breathing evened and knew she was asleep. That was only the first of a few nights she'd come to me to keep the nightmares at bay.


	6. Because she's your kid

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter, it meant so much to me, especially with the subject matter and the actual emotion of it. Criticism is like my best friend when I'm writing. Thanks for those who continue to read and review.**

**Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters. The M rating's just to be safe for now. Maybe some triggers but I don't want to give anything away. Angst. I haven't done much research yet so all mistakes are my own.**

One thing I got used to in the course of Santana settling more thoroughly into our lives was going to my classes. Typically, when I went to classes afterschool it was just me and the instructor and I'd look over and see Daddy fidgeting with his CD player. With Santana I was so much more excited, seeing her working on her homework or showing Daddy how to play Pokémon. It was after one lesson when my instructor came up to Daddy, curious about the girl at his side, showing no interest in the lessons at all.

"Mr. Berry," the older woman asked as she led me from the piano, her hand on my shoulder.

"Yes Mrs. Gray?" He wondered looking up from Santana's game.

"My lesson with Rachel is done but I've been meaning to ask, you're other child," she tilted her head to Santana, "Has she shown any inclination towards singing?"

He looked to Santana curiously, "Not really, but I suppose it's something to discuss. What do you think, San?"

She could only shrug wordlessly.

"I'll get back to you on that Ms. Gray," He smiled politely at the woman as he stood up and took our hands.

"Bye Ms. Gray," I beamed at the woman as we left.

In the car we sat in the back, tugging on our seatbelts as Daddy got ready to pull out of his parking space. "Santana, would you like to go to some classes with Rachel?" He wondered.

She met the question with another shrug, "I don't need to."

"But wouldn't you like to?"

"I don't need to," she repeated.

"Why not?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"Because she's your kid. You and Mr. Hiram let her take classes like that, and don't have to worry about me like that."

Daddy seemed shocked at that. He might not have expected such a response from a child, but the subject didn't come up again for a while, at least, the subject of classes.

}{

Santana and I were on the couch, she was reading me her animorphs book when Daddy came downstairs, an oddly familiar shoebox in hand. Santana's reading had stopped as she looked up, her eyes settling on the box. Daddy came to the couch next to her as he pulled the box on to his lap. He kissed both our foreheads before flipping the box open, and as I saw the envelopes and trinkets inside I realized why the box looked so familiar. He reached inside and pulled out a chain with two rings hanging from them. He handed them to her tenderly and she stared at them, her eyes wide as she fingered the gold bands. I could only look on curiously as she held the rings, especially the smaller of the two.

"I should have given you those sooner," Daddy said ruefully, "But Hiram and I had to go through some of these." Daddy held up a couple papers and envelopes.

Santana tore her gaze from the rings to look up to the papers.

"They're from your father. Did you know about them?" He held them down to her.

She shook her head as she took the papers, unfolding them slowly. I couldn't understand the curving letters that covered the paper and I doubted she could as she traced her fingers gently over the paper, especially the large swooping words at the bottom of the letter.

"I was wondering," he started, his voice delicate as he continued, "If you wanted to go see him."

She looked up to him disbelievingly, "I can?"

Daddy smiled down at her, and nodded, "Hiram found out where we could reach him and I called. You two were in school, but he said he misses you. He really wants to see you, sweetheart."

She worried her lip slightly.

"We can go this weekend if you want," he offered.

She nodded furiously, her eyes dropping back to the paper before her as she placed the rings onto it.

"Alright," he stood up again, placing the box next to her, "This is rightfully yours." He kissed our heads again, wiping away a few stray tears of Santana's before heading upstairs.

After opening each and every one of the letters, even if she couldn't read them, Santana showed me the trinkets in the box. The rings were her Mommy and Papi's wedding bands; I recognized them because they looked similar to Dad and Daddy's. She showed me her Mommy's golden crucifix and explained that she'd always worn it after her Papi had given it to her. Her father's watch, a heavy contraption, ticked quietly on and on as it sat coldly in my palm. His lighter, a dark trinket she was much more reluctant to let me hold. She explained to me that it had been her great grandfathers when he'd lived in Puerto Rico and it had been in their family since, and although she wasn't supposed to play with it her father said he'd give it to her when she was older. By far, my favorite item was her mother's charm bracelet, another gift from her father. The tiny silver charms fell over my fingers with a light tinkling sound. A soccer ball, because her father played, a heart with a green stone set into it, Peridot for Santana's birthday, a small circle she with a design she called a sand dollar, for their honeymoon in Miami, and a house that apparently came with the couple's first home together.

"Do you miss her?" I asked, still fingering the beautiful bauble.

She reached to touch it as well, holding up the little house, "Yes."

"Are you glad you're going to see your Papi?" I asked, still not very well acquainted with the accent on the word so it came out as more of a "Pop."

She nodded, reaching for the soccer ball as she smiled at my question, "I can't wait."

I couldn't help but smile at her own happiness and let her continue explaining the objects in the box to me.

}{

The weekend came a lot quicker than Santana and I were expecting. Rather than going to Temple with Dad I was going with Daddy and Santana to meet my friend's father. I was anxious in my best jeans and t-shirt. Daddy was dressed much nicer than his usual jeans and a button up, but it wasn't exactly formal. Santana had opted for her power rangers shirt and a pair of jeans, fidgeting uncertainly and asking Daddy if he was sure it was alright every so often. I could see the chain around her neck leading under her shirt to the gold bands she hadn't dared to part with in the past few days. When we were in the car, playing Tetris and Pacman it didn't seem to take as long for me, but Santana was anxious, glancing up to the rearview mirror to catch Daddy's eyes. He'd give her a reassuring smile before looking back to the road.

"You ready?" the man asked Santana as we drove past a large fence. It almost looked like a school as I saw the people walking around the large area within the gate.

"Yeah," she nodded, although I could see how nervous she was.

He spoke to a man in a box before a striped post went up before the car and then he went to a parking lot. We got out of the car quickly and he took our hands, leading us inside a small building. We passed through some sort of security where Daddy signed some papers and showed his ID. Santana had to put her necklace in a cup with Daddy's wallet and car keys before they went through a machine and we each stepped through a doorframe. After all of that, we entered a small room full of tables that almost looked like the cafeteria at school. People sat around them talking quietly, some in normal clothes like us and others in matching blue uniforms. We approached one table with a familiar dark haired man tapping his fingers over the table-top impatiently. Santana stopped dead in her tracks and Daddy and I both turned to see her.

"'Tana?" The man called inquisitively as he looked up.

I could only watch as Santana ran to the man letting him pull her into a tight hug. Daddy urged me to sit across from the two as they embraced silently for a moment. We watched as Santana pulled back from the man, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, a skill that surprised even Daddy as I looked up to him. They spoke for a while, rather, Santana spoke and the man nodded intently, smiling in what looked like relief as he listened to her. Finally, he pulled her onto his lap, urging her to wait so he could look to us. "I'm sorry. You'll have to excuse me for my discourteous behavior; it's just been a while since I've seen my daughter. Doctor Carlos Lopez." He held the hand not currently on his daughter's back out.

"Leroy Berry," Daddy shook the proffered hand, "I completely understand and I'm just glad to have been able to give you the chance to have this reunion."

"Thank you so much for this," the man beamed, a familiar feature on his face, "For everything you've done for her. I couldn't express over the phone how grateful I am for this. She-" he looked down and squeezed the shoulder of the girl pressed tightly to his chest, "She means the world to me."

"It's no problem at all you're little girl's becoming a part of our family," Daddy assured.

"She said something along those lines," he beamed at the girl before looking up to me, "You're the one who's been taking care of my hija?"

I nodded shyly.

He waved me forward, and I felt Daddy's hand gently pressing me on.

I moved off of the seat and went to the man, only for him to urge me to stand on the bench next to him. On closer inspection he wasn't the same man from the picture; his hair, the same dark shade as my friend's, was peppered with flecks of gray and longer than the picture, the dark line above his cheek was replaced with a messy goatee, and his features were aged with wrinkles that came more from trauma than time. "Hello, my name is Rachel Berry."

"It's nice to meet you," He smiled brightly at me, becoming the man in the pictures once more, "Thank you so much for being her friend. She's really needed one lately."

"She's my best-friend," I corrected.

Both men chuckled before he nodded, "Well, everyone needs one of those." He urged Santana to stand up next to me, she took my hand gently but didn't drop her other hand from around her father's neck, "Thank you for helping her though, I can tell you make her very happy and not a lot has been able to do that for either of us lately."

"You're welcome," I smiled back at the man.

"Rachel, come here," Daddy called, pulling me onto his lap as well when I went back to his side.

"She's a fighter, you know," Dr. Lopez explained, holding Santana's chin as he examined her features, "Just like I was. You can see it in her eyes."

I sort of wanted to see what he saw, because after the pain and fear that I'd seen there I wanted anything of the girl I played with before back.

"They're cracked and frayed but not broken, never broken. She's strong and that's fine," he looked to Daddy and I, "But someone has to smooth out the edges. My Maricel," she smiled at the accented name, "did it for me, and I think your Rachel is doing the same for my Hija." He slid his arm around her and she hugged his neck tightly, "Her tia Marianna never did like me, and I suppose that disposition got displaced on Santana. It's not right, but we can't go back and change what happened." "Mr. Berry," the man expressed, rubbing Santana's back gently as she held onto him, "My daughter is everything to me. She's all I have left in this world. After everything that I-" he stopped to correct himself "We've been through, I hate to know that anything else bad has happened to her." He kissed her head gently, "I can't stand the idea of sending her so far, but it would be wrong of me to ask anymore of you thank I already plan to, but if you could keep her until my brother in New York can, I would truly be indebted to you."

I tensed up at that, horrified at the mere suggestion that my Santana would be leaving me.

"Actually," Daddy began rubbing my shoulder gently as he felt my reaction, "My husband and I have grown quite attached to Santana. As I said, she's become a part of our family, and we really couldn't imagine not having her around. She's like a sister to Rachel, in the best possible way," he added, understanding Santana's discomfort with the comparison, "And we were hoping to keep it that way, with your blessing."

The man before us looked close to tears at that, clutching the fabric of his daughter's shirt almost as tightly as I'm sure she was. "Really Mr. Berry, that' too mu-"

"It's not, Carlos," Daddy shook his head, "She's taken just as much care of Rachel and I, myself, am indebted to her. We couldn't think of losing her, and it'd mean the world to be able to take her in with us."

The man nodded, wiping his eyes before any tears could fall, "Thank you, so much."

"It's not a problem."

The man looked up to a clock on the wall, his happiness dissipating as he stood up, setting Santana on the ground. She clung to his pant leg as he came around the table, pulling Daddy into a firm hug, "You and your husband truly are good men Mr. Berry."

"Leroy," Daddy corrected as he hugged back, "We're only doing what's right."

He hugged me next, "Thank you for being my daughter's best friend."

I could only nod in his grasp.

Finally, he kneeled before Santana, his hands on her shoulders as he looked her in the eye, "My beautiful girl. You are the best of your mother and me, and trust me," he smirked, another familiar gesture, "only she could bring it out. I got us into this, and I'm sorry that my faults are what put you into this mess. I'm sorry I can't be the one to take care of you, that I haven't been able to, and for some time I won't be able to, and I hope that one day you can forgive me. I just need you to know that I will always love you, as will your mother. Be good for Leroy and his husband," he pinched her cheek gently; "I know how you are. Please, just take care of yourself."

She could only nod silently, tears trailing down her cheeks. She wiped them with her wrists and allowed herself to be pulled into a final embrace.

"Remember mija**, **a mal tiempo, buena cara" he mumbled to the girl.

She nodded again, still silently wiping away tears as he got up, thanking Daddy again before walking to a door at the front of the room, only to be met by two men in different uniforms.

Daddy led us back out to the car, trying to reign in his own emotions as we left.

"That last thing," I finally asked the girl next to me when her tears had ceased, "What did your Papi say?"

She sniffled slightly, pulling her rings out of her shirt to hold them, "He said, _"Meet bad times with a brave face."_"

}{

From what I heard, Daddy and Dad did speak to Santana's Papi a lot after that. Our lives didn't change much after that, but Santana definitely was becoming the girl I remembered. Dad and Daddy cleared out Dad's home office, moving his computer and filing cabinets into their bedroom. The bookshelves went downstairs into the basement. Santana finally got a room of her own. She got a simple twin bed like my own, dressed in red sheets and a black and red comforter. We went to a thrift store and she picked out a dresser and nightstand that Daddy painted black to match. The last piece was a wooden chest she kept at the foot of her bed.

"Santana, come here," Daddy called, kneeling before the small chest with a pile of her toys before him.

She stood before him, looking over everything with a contained excitement, as if she didn't want to be too happy.

"I thought you might like the honors of putting the first toy away," he sorted through, handing the girl her GI Joe.

She took it gladly and placed the action figure gingerly into the chest.

Daddy stood up, beaming at both of, "And, welcome to your bedroom Miss Santana Lopez." He picked her up and came to collect me in the same manner. He looked between the two of us conspiratorially before mock-whispering, "Don't tell Hiram." It was his only warning before he dropped us on the bed, laughing madly as he tickled us and he sat on the bed while we jumped slightly on either side of him.

When her toys were all away and her clothes were folded and stored, the room was perfect. Santana sat on the bed, her legs pulled up to her chest as she looked around the room in wonder, a small smile taking over her features. She got off of the bed, taking the shoebox she'd slipped under the bed out and carrying it to her dresser. She opened it and neatly placed the letters carefully on top, followed by her mother's necklace and bracelet, and her father's watch and lighter. I finally went to her, drawing her attention away from the trinkets so we could play on her bed.

}{

"Ask him," I urged excitedly as we walked through the front door one day after school.

"No, it's stupid," she sighed, settling onto the couch as she tugged off her backpack,

"What are we asking him?" Daddy wondered curiously as he turned from his computer.

"Go ahead," I pressed.

"No, Rach, I don't need to," she shook her head, already pulling out her homework.

I just tossed my backpack onto the couch before huffing and turning to Daddy, "Noah's starting karate class and Santana wants to join but she doesn't want to ask."

I felt her glaring at me but didn't exactly care.

"Alright," he shrugged.

"I don't need to," she tried to argue.

"But you want to, " he grinned cockily at her, "And you're my kid now, so Hiram and I have to worry about you like that."

She blushed slightly at that but I saw the small smile when he turned back to the computer.

I suppose Daddy didn't really expect he'd be worrying about her in the sense that he did. Santana was pretty good at karate. He went to her practices as devoutly as he went to my lessons. I was just as on edge as him with every punch and kick, and unfortunately, every crunch, although they typically weren't hers. Really, after her first broken arm, Santana decided she didn't like getting hit and that set the tone for every other sparring match and competition to follow. Noah really didn't even follow through as well as Santana did. It was at her practices, going through drills, and doing pushups that I most saw the haughty girl I'd first met.


	7. a very special visitor

A/N: Sorry this took so long guys. I just want you guys to know that I'm not giving up on this story. I hope I did this chapter justice. Thanks to all of the people who are still reading. Criticism is always welcome and appreciated.

Warnings: I don't own Glee or any of the characters or any of the songs I may use. This will include lesbian sex, maybe some hetero but it's not likely. Possibly Finn bashing, I'm not entirely sure how yet, but I'll try to find a way, might even toss in some Jesse bashing.

I expected to wake up to another normal day. I'd get up extra early to do the vocal exercises Ms. Gray had been drilling into me for the past few years, then head down to the kitchen. There, I would sit at the table with to enjoy an argument with Santana over the values of taking a shower in the morning and before going to bed as opposed to just at night. Then, Dad would come downstairs, kiss my head, pat Santana's shoulder, and convince Daddy he could make it until lunch on just coffee. That wasn't what happened that day though.

I woke up to a panic I hadn't seen in years. I opened my door to see Dad rushing down the stairs, a laundry basket in hand. Farther up the hallway I heard a familiar sobbing. Worry filled my young mind as I made my way to the room I spent as much, if not more time in, than my own. I was terrified at what I saw. Santana was curled up on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest with a blanket over her shoulders. Daddy sat on the floor speaking in a low soothing voice. I could only watch as my friends shudders came in time with each heart-wrenching sob. I was only there a moment before Dad came back, his hand on my shoulder.

"Leroy?" Dad asked uncertainly.

"I don't," Daddy shook his head, looking back to us, "I don't know what to do." Daddy wasn't supposed to say that; he was always supposed to know what to make things better.

I looked to Dad, hoping he knew what Daddy didn't, "Elizabeth?" I'd heard the name before but I knew the woman by another name.

"Kurt's mother?" Daddy voiced.

"Well she's," Dad hesitated, "Um, a woman," I caught sight of a familiar red tint crossing his face, "She may be better prepared for this situation than, um, us."

"I don't know Hiram," Daddy shook his head, "Shouldn't we be able to handle," he paused, "this?" He looked to Santana uncertainly and then to me, "We have two girls, we had to expect it."

"I know honey, but there are other circumstances we didn't account for," he sounded stern as if he were trying to make Daddy understand, "and I just think it would be best if Santana knew," he stopped before looking to Santana, "If you knew that this, er," I didn't understand what had them all so nervous, "what's happening is um," he gave a slight cough, "very natural for a young lady her age, and, ahem, not in any way her fault."

Daddy looked back to Santana before nodding, "Alright." As Dad left to go get the phone Daddy held his hand out for me and I instinctively went over to his side. "Honey, can you try and make Santana feel better?"

I nodded and looked to her. I hadn't realized her sobbing had stopped, but she didn't look any better as she followed Daddy with her eyes. Watching him as he went to her drawers and began pulling out clothes.

"Are you okay?" Was all I could think to ask.

She looked at me with confused wet eyes. She shrugged and pulled her blanket more tightly around her shoulders.

"What happened?" I asked, my tiny voice a bit shaky from nerves.

Her lips pursed in silence and she was spared from answering as Daddy came back to us and set the pile of clothes between us. I could see Santana's Power Rangers shirt on the top, "Santana, do you want to take a shower? Mrs. Hummel will be here when you get out and you can talk to her, alright?"

She nodded quickly, not exactly looking at him.

"Do you want Rachel to stay with you?"

Another sharp nod.

"Do you mind sweetie?"

"No, Daddy," I slipped off of the bed to take the pile and hold my hand out for Santana.

She clasped my hand tightly and I felt the nervous sweat that had built. She pulled her blanket tighter around her if that were even possible and Daddy only went as far as the door with us but as I looked back I saw his worried eyes locked onto us.

I couldn't ignore the slight familiarity of it as Santana slipped into the shower, finally discarding her blanket behind the opaque curtain. I watched the stack grow, her pajamas laid trimly upon the edge of the shower and that's when I saw what had caused such a stir. Blood tarnished the faces of the cartoon characters that decorated Santana's pajama bottoms. Traces stood out on the pink blanket, and her panties were almost completely covered.

I bit my lip and resisted the urge to cry, trying to think of something to say. In that moment, Daddy's words came back to me, _"Rachel, try to talk to her. Ask her favorite movie, food, things like that okay?"_

"What's your favorite subject in school?" I wondered in a hushed tone.

"Spanish," she answered in a voice quieter than my own, if that was even possible.

I couldn't help but scoff, "Only 'cause Papi helps you with your homework."

I didn't realize how happy I'd be to hear her chuckle until she did, "So?"

"And your least favorite?" I smiled.

"History," I could tell she was rolling her eyes. "What about you?" Her voice was growing again.

"I like all of my classes," I answered smugly.

"Liar," she scoffed but went on, "What about your favorite?"

"English."

We continued on that way until Santana got out. While she got dressed our conversation ceased. She came out of the shower in a tank top and dark sweat pants. She seemed withdrawn with her arms crossed across her chest and her eyes cast down.

"San," I called gently.

"Huh," she hummed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

I moved closer, grabbing one of her hands, "Santana, what happened?"

I felt her tense slightly but shook her head.

"San," I called again.

She brought her thumb to worry the knuckle between her teeth.

I might have pressed further had Daddy not knocked at the door, "Girls, is everything alright?"

"Yes Daddy," I assured, looking to Santana as she nodded.

"Mrs. Hummel's here," he informed.

"Come on," I pulled her along and she followed as I opened the door.

She nodded again and we went out, following Daddy. Santana went back to collect her clothes for the hamper but he assured her not to worry this time. Downstairs we were greeted by a practically full living room. Mrs. Hummel sat on the couch stroking the hair of a very tired looking Kurt while she spoke to Dad. As we came down the stairs their conversation ceased and they all looked up for us, except for Kurt who I was certain was dead asleep. Mrs. Hummel gave a smile that assured me everything would be fine; I couldn't deny that Santana felt the same as I saw the uncertainty on her brow. She'd always met kindness with a bit of skepticism at first.

"Hello girls," I couldn't help but smile back at her smile, "From what your father's told me, one of you has had a very special visitor."

Santana stopped on the last step bringing me to a stop as well. I looked back to see her looking at Mrs. Hummel under clinched brows.

"Santana," she called soothingly, "Would you prefer if your dads weren't in the room?"

She looked between the two men before nodding wordlessly.

Daddy looked like he was going to protest when Dad answered, "Whatever makes it easier." He still had a red tint to his cheeks, "Do you want me to take Kurt? Maybe get him some cereal?"

Mrs. Hummel nodded and nudged the sleeping boy, "That'd be wonderful Hiram."

Kurt sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning, "Mommy?"

"Sweetie, we're at your friend's house, but I have to talk to them, do you want to go get some cereal with Mr. Hiram and Mr. Leroy?"

He looked more likely to crash back onto his mother's lap with his ruffled hair and Mickey Mouse pajamas. It took a moment for the words to sink in before he nodded.

"Come on kiddo," Dad held out his hand for the boy who took it without question before doing the same to me.

"Maybe," the older woman began, "It'd be best if I had this conversation with Rachel too."

Again, Dad answered before Daddy could pout, "Thank you so much Elizabeth."

She nodded before letting them take their leave into the kitchen.

"Come on," I pulled Santana to Dad's chair and climbed up although she stood by, leaning against the arm. "San."

She shook her head.

"It's fine Rachel," Mrs. Hummel assured, "It's understandable why she wouldn't want to sit." She grew a bit more serious before asking, "What exactly did your dads tell you?"

Santana shuffled her feet nervously as she looked down, "Leroy said it natural," her voice was small, "And it wasn't my fault. It would have happened anyway."

She received an understanding nod, "It isn't your fault Santana. Leroy was right, it's something that all girls go through when they become young ladies. It means you're growing up." Her voice was so soft and melodic, even as her tone grew a bit more stern it was comforting, "Santana, your dads told me a bit about what happened," she worried her lip as Santana stiffened, "When you were younger and it's important that you know that it has nothing to do with this." The smile that fit so easily on her face returned, "And really, this is a chance for you to help Rachel when her time comes."

I couldn't contain my slightly worried squeak. I still wasn't entirely certain we were talking about.

"Don't worry sweetheart," she assured me, "It's nothing to worry about right now." She opened up her purse and pulled out a small green package. She stood up and walked over to us, holding out her empty hand for Santana. Santana looked her up and down hesitantly. The older woman instead held out the package. "Could you two possibly show me where the restroom is?"

"Yes ma'am," I nodded and urged Santana on.

}{

"Now take the sticky side-"

"Is everything alri-"

"And place it down along your panties."

There are no words to describe the coughing sound that Dad made as he made a sudden u-turn and headed back down the stairs.

I couldn't help but chuckle along with Mrs. Hummel before she finished, "Make sure the wings are secure and that should help."

After a moment we heard the sounds of water running and then Santana came out, her face a bright red as she came back to stand by me.

Mrs. Hummel placed a hand on her shoulder, "I know it's terrible to get used to but it's one of the many prices we pay as the fairer sex."

"Is that all?" Santana asked a bit impatiently.

"I didn't really have many pads lying around so maybe we should go to the store, unless you'd rather go with one of-"

"No," Santana blurted out, looking mortified at the thought.

"Alright," the woman chuckled and stood up, "The store should be opening up about," she shifted her wrist until her watch rested face up on the bottom, "Now."

Santana kept her eyes downcast for a majority of the time from then on. We went to the kitchen to collect Dad, Daddy, and Kurt. Dad looked embarrassed as he avoided eye contact with Mrs. Hummel. He bid everyone goodbye once he'd been assured everyone was still alive and well, and left for work. As for everybody else, we loaded into Daddy's car; a far more awake Kurt and I talking while Santana shuffled uncomfortably every so often. When we got to the pharmacy it was a bit odd for the whole group to be walking into the aisle with all of the feminine products. Daddy had managed an odd mixture of embarrassment and excitement as he held up his camera while Santana held the squishy green package.

"Alright Leroy, that's enough," Mrs. Hummel laughed, "Save some embarrassment for Rachel's time."

"What?"

"It won't be nearly as funny then," Santana huffed and crossed her arms.

"Kurt, could you go with Mr. Leroy to pick up some Advil?"

The little boy nodded and looked up to Daddy who looked disappointed but took my friend's hand.

"Alright girls, now that they're gone," she placed her hands on our shoulders, "I just want you two to know, as much as your fathers love you, you'll have to be a little patient with them. They're two of the best men I could ever think to raise children," she assured, "but there will definitely be some things you'll need a woman's help with. I hope you two know that if there's anything, absolutely anything, that you two need help with or any questions you don't think your dads can help you with or understand you can call me."

"Yes ma'am," I nodded as I followed beside her.

"So," she looked up from us, "What kind of tea do you girls like?"

}{

Kurt stayed over at our house that day, and we got to miss the next day of school. While Santana was adapting to this new change I was enjoying the extra time together. Normally, I loved learning so much, but I'd come to hate the greater amount of time I'd had to spend away from Santana since I'd gotten to the fifth grade. Santana, of course went to the sixth, leaving me behind for Lima Middle School with about half of our friends. Every morning, we would part ways when Daddy dropped me off at school before her.

"How does it feel?" I wondered over the homework before me, swinging my legs lazily as I rested on my stomach.

Santana didn't look up from the work atop the knees pulled up to her chest. "Dirty," even the way she said it was full of disgust.

I knew she wouldn't like me pressing the matter but Santana had always proven forgiving of my curiosity, "Does it hurt?"

She sighed but nodded glumly.

"Do you feel," I nibbled my lip as I thought of what I wanted to ask, "Different."

Her eyes finally left her paper, locking on me as her patience waned at a faster pace than I'd ever seen, "I feel like I don't want you here."

I, a young Rachel Berry, had no response to that. In the last three years, the meanest thing Santana had done to me was call me a hobbit as our height differences grew a bit more obvious; leaving me unprepared for this unfamiliar irritation.

"Leave me alone," she groaned weakly as she pushed her papers aside and rolled to lie down, still curled up tightly with her back to me.

O kept my mouth shut tightly as I gather my own papers into my backpack, it was all I could do not to sob, but it didn't stop the tears streaming down my cheeks as I went downstairs.

Dad and Daddy seemed just as perplexed as me about the changes happening to the girl upstairs so they seemed as good a source for comfort and understanding as any.

Daddy was never surprised when I went to him, my head pressed against his shoulder, just how apparent my growth was each time. This time his surprise was from the tears glazing my cheeks, "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

"Santana," I sniffled and wiped my cheeks with the heels of my palms, "told me to leave her alone."

"Oh, sweetie," he rubbed my back gently, "She's just going through some things right now. Soon enough you'll be begging everyone to leave you alone too." His voice took on a more playful tone.

"No," I huffed and hugged him, "Never."

"Just give her some time," he assured.

I nodded and let him pull me onto his lap as he mumbled about how I probably wouldn't fit on his lap much longer. I let the keys comfort me until I was nodding off on my feet. I felt myself being picked up soon enough.

}{

"Rae," an apologetic voice called while a hand nudged my shoulder, "Rachel wake up, I'm sorry."

"Hm," I groaned, nuzzling my pillow with my eyes closed further.

"I'm sorry Rachel," she tried again.

"S'okay," I mumbled before moving over in the tiny bed and urging the covers down as best as I could. I felt the subtle dip in the mattress as Santana climbed in beside me.

}{

"No, I don't want to play football. It's stupid," she snapped at the boy at the door.

"But you always play," Noah whined.

"I'll play with you," I offered although I was no match for the other boys.

He gave me a weak smile but it returned to a pout as the dark haired girl scowled at him. "I could," he looked into the house uncertainly, "Play with you guys."

The offer shocked me. Typically, Noah would absolutely refuse to play inside with us because Santana would always let me decide what we played and the boy wasn't a fan of the musicals I'd stage.

Santana noted this as well as she eyed our friend skeptically, "I'm doing my homework."

"I need help with my language arts," he beamed.

No one ever thought they'd see the day Noah Puckerman jumped at the opportunity to do homework but he did.

"Where's your backpack then?" She asked smugly.

His eyebrows knit together, "I have to go get it."

"You do that," he hadn't even turned entirely when she shut the door.

Santana had already cancelled a sleep-over with Quinn and Brittany that weekend. She'd had to apologize several times to me and Dad while Daddy had witnessed more of the attitude we'd grown mildly used to than was normal. Noah was by far the best at handling Santana at her worst. When he returned with his backpack he took the verbal lashings that came with each wrong answer, stupid question, and misspelled words. It paid off for him when after all of it he got to sit by Santana on the floor while we watched The Sword in the Stone.

"Hey girls what are-" Dad stopped short as he took note of Noah. "What are you doing here Noah?"

"Santana was helping me with my homework."

"This early in the weekend?"

Noah blushed but nodded.

"Where's Daddy?" He asked Santana and I next.

"In your room taking a nap," I offered.

"Does he know Noah's here?"

"Yeah," Santana nodded, finally lifting her head from Noah's shoulder.

He looked between us and the steps for a moment before saying, "Stay here/"

Nobody had time to agree before he was up the stairs.

We missed the movie as we watched the empty staircase for any sign of either man. It was a long whole before both descended, Dad looking upset while Daddy seemed annoyed. They came to stand before us.

"Girls," Dad began, his arms crossed, "Now that you're getting older we-"

"Dad," Daddy corrected.

It earned him a glare before Dad continued, "Think it might be a good idea to set some new rules."

The three of us could only wait for him to continue.

"First of all, Noah-"

"And all of the other boys," Daddy added pointedly, growing more annoyed,

"None of the boys," Dad corrected, "Are allowed in the house without a parent present. We'd also appreciate if you two kept this in mind in other people's homes."

I nodded but Santana and Noah just kept listening.

"And Rachel, maybe it would be best if you started going to sleep-overs with other girls rather than with Kurt."

"What?" That about crushed me; Brittany was absolutely sweet and Quinn didn't entirely dislike me, but they were Santana's friends.

"Hiram," Daddy probably should have stretched before such a feat of ocular tumbling, "I really doubt that Kurt is much of a threat to the girls' virtues."

"It's only fair Leroy," he assured before looking back to us, "When the boys are here they aren't allowed in your rooms."

"No," Daddy challenged, "You're just being paranoid now. They're just kids."

"Leroy-" they held each other's glares for a moment before Dad grimaced and looked away. "Fine," he scowled, "But you have to keep your doors open."

Every once in a while a look would cross Santana's face that expressed an understanding of someone far older than her. I was never entirely certain what to expect along with this look; sometimes terror and other times gratitude. That time I couldn't read her very well. "Is this because of me? Because of my-" she scrunched up her nose as she looked up at the two men with the answers.

Dad's expression melted to one of guilt, "What?"

"Honey, no," Daddy shook his head, moving to sit on the floor in front of her.

It didn't matter though; Santana was already on her way to the stairs.

"Santana," Daddy called, getting up to follow.

I was slipping off of the couch to go when we all flinched at the loud clatter of a door upstairs.

"I hope you're happy Hiram," Daddy called before going to their room, although he practiced a bit more self-control with the door.

I looked up to Dad as he rubbed his temple.

Noah was still staring at the stairs.

"Maybe it would be best if you went home Noah," Dad sighed.

The boy finally tore his eyes from the stairs to look up at the older man, his eyebrows drawn in a defiance I recognized.

"Bye Noah," I turned to hug him before he said anything stupid.

He visibly relaxed and nodded, "Okay Rachie. Mr. Berry."

I walked him to the door before Dad came to pick me up.

"You aren't made at me are you?" He sighed.

"No," I gave a small smile, "Maybe Daddy just needs to be left alone for a while like San?"

"Maybe," he smiled weakly back. "Do you think Breadstix might cheer them up?"

}{

Dad's rules didn't do much to hinder Noah and Santana's friendship. IF anything they grew closer. As Santana grew more acquainted with her monthly visitor she was back to being herself. She drug me to her sleepovers where I shared the same fate of being _made-over _with Brittany's cat. Quinn was never thrilled to see me but she acted nice enough for Santana. Noah's football games were the worst. I didn't care for the sport but once the boy joined the middle school football team it was almost mandatory that we show up. It didn't help when Noah managed to convince Santana to do what Brittany and Quinn had been trying for months.

"You look adorable," Daddy cheered.

Santana didn't look entirely certain as she swayed her hips in the yellow and white pleated skirt.

"What about karate?" I wondered as I felt one of the strips between my fingers.

Santana looked up to Daddy, worry evident on her features, "Quinn said karate wasn't for girls."

"You can cheer and do Karate if you want San," Daddy smiled kindly. "We'll cheer just as loud at the games as we do at your competitions."

She didn't look entirely convinced but nodded, still running her fingers over the fabric of her tank top.

"So we'll be cheering for cheer leaders?" I questioned playfully.

She cracked a smile at that.

"Absolutely," Daddy beamed, pulling us both into a tight hug.

I hated the games passionately but on those nights I lived for the half time. Santana was amazing since she was one of the smallest girls on the squad.

Santana and Noah might have gotten closest about halfway through sixth grade. Apparently, Noah hadn't been in school for a few days. One or two days were the norm, but Santana knew for a fact that the boy hadn't been suspended. We were at the park when Azimio said he'd heard from his dad that Noah's dad had left town. I was worried about the boy but Santana wasted no time heading for the boy's house. We'd seen the house many times, but Noah avoided bringing anybody over. Everyone knew it was because of his dad, even if he idolized the man. I stood at the bottom step for a moment looking up at the house but Santana didn't bother. She was up the steps, knocking harshly on the door. It didn't take long before a very pregnant Mrs. Puckerman came to the door, her eyes puffy.

"Yes?" She asked through a thick voice.

"Mrs. Puckerman can we see Noah?" It was a question but Santana sounded very certain.

The woman looked nervous before she nodded, "I'll get him."

We only waited a moment before Noah came out, still in his Jurassic Park pajamas. His hair was messy like he'd just gotten out of bed and his eyes had a tired watery quality to them.

"Hi," Santana said softly, although I'd expected much more after the way she'd stormed over.

"Hi," muttered as he leaned against the door frame.

I had no idea what to say. I really felt like I was intruding.

"I, um, heard," she started off.

"I'm sure," he looked away.

"He was an ass anyway," she said off-handedly.

Noah looked up to meet her eyes, "Yeah."

"You're better off without him," she added.

"We are," he agreed.

She worried her lip before leaning forward and kissing his cheek, "You can take much better care of your mom and-"

"Sister," he informed. "Mom went to the doctor. It's a girl."

"You'll be an amazing big brother."

"I will," he nodded.

"Noah," she called softly.

He looked away again, not responding otherwise.

"Noah," her voice was softer, "You don't need him."

I expected some cocky agreement but his features hardened instead.

"Noah," she repeated again, reaching out to take his hand.

"No," he barked, pulling his hand back, "I don't need him or you or anybody."

I winced but Santana just nodded.

"I- I can help my mom," his voice cracked, "And I'll be a good big brother." He was panting.

"Yeah, of course," she agreed, "We know you can do all of that."

"I can," the tears finally broke free, "And I don't need him."

Santana wiped his eyes before pulling him to her for a hug. I looked away uncomfortably as he finally broke down, clutching tightly at her shirt as if he expected her to leave too. He sobbed into her shoulder for some time and before I realized it they were sitting on the steps while she rubbed his back and reminded him that rock-stars needed drama in their lives to inspire them.

"Puck," he mumbled silently.

"What," Santana asked tiredly, her hand ceasing on his back.

"Puckerman," he mumbled, "Everybody on the team calls me Puckerman."

"So?" She wondered.

"Call me Puck," he wiped at his eyes once more before working up one of his signature cheeky grins, "It's cooler than Noah."

After that they were inseparable. More often than not, you could see Santana walking around the neighborhood holding Noah's, rather, Puck's hand. She did her best the bring me along. But that's about when we started growing apart.


End file.
